Best Served Cold
by rmlohner
Summary: Years after Mary was framed and exiled from Downton by her jealous cousin Patrick, she returns in disguise along with Matthew, and a few other allies, to get her revenge.
1. Chapter 1

Mary Crawley permitted herself a small private smile as the festivities of her 18th birthday began wrapping up. In truth, she was a tad embarrassed at everything her parents had poured into it. Surely the money could be better used maintaining their land and helping their tenants? But she supposed she couldn't blame them too much for their excitement, as she was certainly well looking forward to taking a larger place in the world as an adult.

"And one for the old man's coconut, eh?" Mary's smile widened as her cousin Patrick approached her.

Mary made a playful shoving gesture. "You know I never liked being bumped, terribly undignified."

Patrick chuckled. "Always dignified, yes, we know. But surely you can spare a little a bit later on?"

Mary gasped and quickly glanced around at her family and guests, who were luckily all absorbed in their own conversations as they started to leave. She knew exactly what this was about. She and Patrick had gotten very close in her early teens, but he took things further than she expected when he started making strong hints about looking forward to her 16th birthday…and the proper age for intimate relations.

Mary had put him off by saying that while they'd always been raised to believe this was the consenting age, she was planning to wait two more years in deference to the comfort of her American mother. Patrick had tried to convince her that Cora didn't need to know anything, but she remained firm. She'd hoped those two years would cause him to lose interest and go after a more willing girl, but now it seemed it hadn't worked, and she suddenly found herself without any excuses.

But before she could even start to process this, Patrick went on. "In fact, I'm very glad we waited, because it's given me more time to think about what I really want for my life. And what I want is to marry you." Mary could only helplessly stammer, so he continued. "We've been happy together, haven't we? And this will give you your own title, just like you've always wanted, don't deny it because I know better."

Mary took another look around before she finally found her tongue. "Patrick…I'm sorry. I don't love you, it's as simple as that. And yes, I do want my own title, but I want love too. And so do you, I'm sure. We just wouldn't be right for each other."

Patrick took a step back, looking like he'd been slapped. He seemed about to lose his temper, but then took his own look around and stifled it. Still, his voice dripped with surprising rage as he quietly said, "You made me wait all this time, and this is all I get? You'll pay for embarrassing me like this. I don't know how yet, but you'll pay." And with that he stalked away, leaving Mary shaken at this new side of her cousin she'd never suspected.

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A week later, Mary still couldn't get Patrick's threat out of her head. It was starting to seem like the waiting was the worst part, and she was starting to wish he'd just make his revenge already and get it over with.

After tonight, she'd wonder forever after what she was thinking.

Anna, Mary's recently hired personal maid, entered as usual at this time of night for their preparations for bed. However, this time she said, "Your parents have requested you to come to the library, my lady."

Upon their arrival, Mary was shocked to see her parents' faces; both Robert and Cora looked like they'd seen a ghost. And then she saw Patrick sitting at the other end of the room, shooting her a quick grin. Anna turned to go, but Robert said, "You should stay, Anna. This concerns you too."

The maid turned back, now looking just as confused as Mary was sure she did. "Mama, Papa, what is this about?"

Patrick stood up and walked over in an arrogant saunter. "I knew there had to be some deeper reason why you turned me down, but I never thought it could be something like this." He turned to Mary's parents.

Cora finally spoke up. "Mary, your cousin tells us that he's seen you and Anna...well…"

She didn't seem able to continue, so Robert abruptly coughed out, "Kissing. Intimately."

The whole idea was such nonsense that Mary wasn't able to move a muscle for several seconds. But Anna had no such problem, and gave a gasp before backing up and seeming surprised when she ran into the door.

Mary finally found herself able to turn to Patrick and gave a contemptuous chuckle. "Is this really how far you've sunk, Patrick?" She looked at her parents again. "You can't possibly believe this. I turned down his marriage proposal at my birthday party, and so he's telling this lie. It's pathetic, really."

Cora shook her head. "There's more, darling."

"I should say so." At first Mary simply couldn't accept the voice she heard coming from where its owner had been hidden in the shadows. But as she stepped into the light, what she accepted no longer mattered.

"Edith?"

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 _Edith looked at Patrick in shock. "You want me to do this to my own sister? It will ruin her entire life!"_

 _Patrick smirked. "And do you really care so much about that? Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way they all talk about you. Poor younger sister Edith, forever doomed to be in her sister's shadow, the one who took all the looks and charm and left nothing for you. Well, I've always found you quite attractive, and I know you're smart too. So you should see this opportunity for what it is."_

 _He had hit on exactly what he needed to, not that Edith would admit that to him. "Still, it's a great risk I'll be taking, lying to the authorities. I'll need a bit more out of this for myself, unless you think you can pull it off by yourself."_

 _Patrick gave a rueful laugh. "Didn't I just say you were smart? Yes, you have figured me out. I need you for this, more than you need me. All right, how about this: when you come of age, we'll be married. I stand to inherit the earldom after your father passes, and that will make you a countess. If we play things right, you could rise even higher from there."_

 _Edith gave a greatly satisfied grin. Another thing she wouldn't be telling Patrick was that she'd long been attracted to him and greatly jealous at his going after Mary all these years. This was turning out better than she could have hoped._

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Edith glared at Mary and Anna. "I've seen the two of them together, several times. I wouldn't have said anything to damage the family, but she didn't care. She still threatened to ruin my reputation if I told anyone. Well, if they've been so indiscreet that someone else has found out, what's the point of my keeping quiet?" She stepped closer and sneered at Mary. "I just feel sorry for all those boys who've been after you all this time, when you couldn't respond to any of it."

Mary was still in silent shock as Patrick replied, "Who would have thought, such a deviant in our own family? Well, I trust the proper thing will happen now."

Robert turned on him in a rage. "If you think this will turn Cora and I against our daughter, you're wrong. I could tell you stories about the lads at Eton that would put your hair on end, and they're some of the finest men I've ever known. No, we will stand by Mary, no matter what."

Patrick seemed surprised and even afraid after the outburst, but quickly regained his composure. "Well, I'm afraid it doesn't matter what you or any of us think. Homosexuality is illegal in this country, with a penalty of prison time. And I've already done my duty and called the police, who should be coming at any minute."

All eyes except Edith's turned to him in horror, and then he moved to look out the window. "And look, I believe that's them turning down the road now."

Robert promptly turned to Mary. "Whatever is going on, just know that we love you. But for now, you have to leave. There's nothing else to do to keep you out of prison." Tears began in his eyes, while beside him Cora seemed about to faint.

Mary knew it was true, but didn't move just yet. "Anna has to come with me. She'll get it even worse than I would in prison."

Anna looked her right in the eyes, in a shocking rarity for a servant, especially when paired with the shaken but determined look on her face. "No, my lady. There's no time to take anything, and I'd just be another mouth to feed. You're better off just leaving me here. Now just go!" And in an even more stunning breach of protocol, she actually shoved Mary away from her.

Mary knew she was out of time, and simply ran out into the rear garden without even saying goodbye to anyone. As soon as she was far enough away, she finally let herself cry. Once it was all out, she was able to start thinking about what to do next.

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In the year that had passed since Mary's escape and Anna's arrest, Robert and Cora had both seemed like shadows of their former selves. They both suspected the accusations weren't true, but with Patrick and Edith both refusing to budge there had been nothing they could do. They barely even talked with Edith anymore, and while Sybil was trying her best to get on with everyone, her inability to get a straight answer from any of them had made her sullen and taciturn, often just reading alone in her room.

During his usual perusal of the morning paper at breakfast, Robert suddenly led out a horrified shout and dropped his spoon, taking no notice of its contents splattering on the floor. When no words were forthcoming, Cora ran around the table to see for herself what had caused the reaction. It didn't take long to find, as a report of the death of a woman later identified as disgraced former heiress Mary Crawley in a carriage accident was a banner headline.

Neither spoke a word for the next few minutes, and there weren't even many tears. They had cried all those out long before.

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"I'm not going, and you can't make me!"

Patrick no longer bothered to hide his smugness whenever he achieved a win over an opponent; what the family knew about his disdain for them could no longer hurt him. "Your father gave the earldom to me, and that means I can do whatever I want with you."

Sybil remained resolute. "I got the truth out of Edith, and I'm going to tell everyone about what the two of you did. You're not getting away with it, not after what happened to Mary!"

Patrick shook his head. "Could you try to explain it, my dear?"

Edith looked at her sister with just as much contempt. "Who do you think anyone would be more likely to believe? Mother and father couldn't do anything about it, so what makes you think you can?"

"Because you broke their spirits by what you did to Mary! I'm not like that, and my resolve has just gotten stronger."

Edith was unmoved. "It's just too bad none of that matters. The truth is what we've made it for a long time now. No one cares about setting anything straight, not as long as we're the ones in charge."

Patrick chimed back in. "And who knows, you might be happy at the convent. St. Mary's, it should help you feel close to your sister. Of course, if you force us to use the authorities to drag you there, that would be a hard first impression to change. This is happening no matter what you do, and the best thing for you is to accept it."

Sybil spit on the floor between them. "We're not family. Families don't do this to each other. And whatever happens to me, I'll be praying every day that you get what's coming to you."

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The Great War had left a scar across the world, wiping out an unspeakable swath of people in all countries involved. But Downton Abbey still stood aloof, unaffected by the destruction as the new Earl and Countess kept themselves isolated from the conflict. Patrick had no problem putting it out of his mind entirely as he discovered an unusual letter in the daily mail.

"Darling, it seems someone has bought Haxby Park."

Edith perked up. "Bully for them, it would be a shame to see the place go to waste just because the Russells' son got himself killed. Who is it?"

Patrick kept reading. "Count Donovan. Never heard of him."

Edith shrugged. "Nor have I. New money, you suppose?"

"It says here he's holding a dinner party to get to know his new neighbors. Though if he really is nouveau riche, I don't think it's worth the time. He'll probably lose it all soon at the horse track or something."

They would grow to regret not accepting the invitation.

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Over the next few weeks, rumors abounded about Patrick and Edith's new neighbors. Count Donovan was said to be fabulously wealthy, and stunningly handsome. However, he declined all efforts to get him to discuss his past, which of course just increased his allure for many. An even bigger mystery was his wife, who only went by the name Aine, and hid her face behind a dark veil, though her quick wit still endeared her to all who had met her. Patrick and Edith found it rather presumptuous, naming herself after an Irish goddess, but the reputation still perked them up, and got them interested in meeting the Count and Countess after all.

All of this was just as they planned, and upon getting a letter inviting them to Downton, Mary presented it to Matthew with a serene expression. "So far, so good."


	2. Chapter 2

Mary had gone to the Drakes as soon as she was able to get a handle on just how much she had lost in the last few minutes. It was a risk, but with only the clothes on her back, it was one she needed to take. Luckily, the family was eager to repay the Crawleys' kindness as landlords and readily accepted her story. John then drove her into town and gave her what little money he was able to spare. Mary knew full well it was more than she could have asked for and was very grateful.

She resorted to spending the night on the street, which included waking up to find herself face to face with a rat and shrieking so loudly she was surprised the police weren't drawn right to her. Apparently such noises late at night weren't such an unusual occurrence for the area.

The next day, she was forced to face the harsh truth: John's money would barely last her a day no matter how frugal she was with it, and getting more presented quite the conundrum. Well-paying jobs for women were hard to come by in the first place, and she was sure that by now her face would be well-known to any reputable business as a fugitive. After hours of pondering, and trying to ignore her growling stomach, she even starting considering that she might have to resort to the oldest profession if she wanted to last the week.

But at last, fortune smiled on her. A gentleman and his wife were sitting at an outdoor café with no one else around yet, and both were engrossed in their conversation with neither looking in her direction. The man had laid his belongings down with some haste, and his wallet had slipped out to land a foot away. Mary wrestled with her conscience, but only briefly, knowing she didn't have long to seize this opportunity. And somehow, she was able to nab the item and scurry away without anyone raising an alarm.

Mary ran a few blocks away before looking inside, and was pleased to find quite a supply of money in the wallet. However, she knew that this was a very temporary measure, and she could never count on such a chance encounter again when it ran out. She could only think of one thing to do, and just hoped her new windfall would last until she completed it.

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Her luck had held, and she now stood on the doorstep of her grandmother Martha Levinson's house in New York. She had made it last by being willing to take the lowest class cabin on the first steamship she could find, and now all that remained to be seen was whether her gamble had paid off.

As Martha came to the door, Mary was sure she made quite a sight, with her tear-streaked face and clothes that were falling to tatters. All she could think to say was, "Grandmama, please help me."

Martha's expression softened at once and she wrapped Mary in a hug. "You're always safe here. Now come in and let's get you some food and proper clothes."

As they entered the house, Martha continued, "Your mother sent me a telegram about everything that happened to you. She wanted to make sure I heard the truth from her before any newspapers here got wind of it. And I've been hoping you would be able to come here."

Mary nearly started crying again at the sight of the buttered rolls Martha brought out to the table, which were somehow the most delicious-looking things she'd ever seen. Her grandmother let her dig into them for a while, and then said, "Now, what are we going to do about this?"

Mary looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean, do about it?"

"Well, I just figured you wanted my help getting back what's rightfully yours."

Mary looked back down. "I don't know that there is anything to do about it. The law is against me no matter what Mama and Papa might say, and with Patrick and Edith against me together, it's no question who would be believed."

Martha sat down next to her and looked her in the eyes. "My girl, I've never run away from a fight in my life, and I'm not about to let you do it either. Don't tell me you don't want to make them pay for what they did to you."

A bit of steel entered Mary's gaze. "Of course, but then we just come back to what can I do?"

"Right now I don't know, but a good place to start is you telling me everything you can about exactly what happened. I'm sure Cora wasn't able to put everything in her message, and I'll need every detail I can get if we're going to get anywhere."

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It was some months later that Mary got the news. "My girl, I must confess I've been keeping something from you. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case it turned out to be useless, but I've managed to find the perfect person to help us, and he's willing. And he'll be arriving today!"

Some time after they'd gotten everything in order to receive their guest, the knock came at the door. Martha beamed at Mary as the strange arrival entered. "Mary, meet Matthew Crawley."

Mary picked up on it immediately. "Does that mean you're my family?"

Matthew started to reply, but Martha beat him to it. "Fifth or sixth cousin with maybe a couple removes thrown in there, the whole thing gives me a headache. But the point is, he's next in line to inherit Downton after Patrick and James."

Matthew was now finally able to speak for himself. "Personally, I've never really wanted to move up in society. I'm a solicitor, and I'd be perfectly happy doing it for the rest of my days. But when I heard about everything that had happened to you, I was horrified. And I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you." He took hold of her hand and kissed it, a gesture Mary had feared she would never experience again.

Martha waved it away. "And you wrote back to me that you have an idea?"

Matthew smiled. "How familiar are you with French literature, Mary?"

Mary frowned. "Les Miserables is one of Papa's favorites, but I could never get very far into it. That's about it. Why?"

"I've always loved it myself, and my favorite is The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas the Senior. It's about a merchant sailer named Edmond Dantes who manages to make three powerful enemies, who conspire to frame him for masterminding a plot to rescue Napoleon Bonaparte from Elba. So he's thrown into the Chateau d'If for life."

Mary was now more confused than ever. "It sounds a bit familiar, but what's the point?"

A twinkle came into Matthew's eye. "That's only the beginning. Another prisoner tells him about a valuable treasure hidden on the island of Monte Cristo, so they hatch a plan to escape and go after it. The other man dies, so Edmond escapes on his own and finds the treasure. And after he digs up the truth about the plot against him, he uses it to return to his hometown as the Count of Monte Cristo and becomes friendly with the people who destroyed his life, so that he can find the best way to destroy each of them in turn."

Martha smiled as well. "I think I can see where you're going with this. You want to try the same thing."

Matthew turned his smile on her. "Exactly. You and your husband made quite a bit of money, surely you can make some more together with the two of us to finance a title to return to England with."

Martha pondered for a few seconds. "It'll take some time, so I hope you can both be patient."

Mary spoke up again. "Wait a minute, I haven't said anything about agreeing to all this."

Martha turned to her. "And why wouldn't you, after all they did to you?"

"But what you're suggesting, it sounds like becoming just as bad as them."

Martha put a hand on her shoulder. "Didn't you tell me you stole the money you used to come here, because you didn't have a choice?"

"Yes, but…"

"So you should know that sometimes morality isn't a case of black and white. And after everything your sister and cousin did to you, I'd say you were absolutely due your revenge. Tell you what, why don't you just think it over a while, it's not like we'll be ready to start tomorrow."

Mary simply nodded.

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It took a few days of Mary searching her soul, but at last the recurring memory of Patrick and Edith's smug faces made her decision much easier. She went to Matthew and Martha and said, "I agree. But I have two conditions."

Matthew nodded. "Absolutely."

"First, Mama and Papa had nothing to do with it. Patrick and Edith forced them into a corner, and they could do nothing to help, but they wanted to. So I want them kept out of anything we do."

"Of course. And the second?"

Mary sighed. "There was another victim in all this, who to my shame I'd almost forgotten with all the troubles I've had. Anna wasn't able to escape with me, and she must be in prison now. I want to get her out. If she can help us so much the better, but either way it should be done."

Martha said, "As it happens, Matthew did some looking around for anyone in England who could help us before coming here, and one person in particular sounds like he would be perfect for that job. I was going to contact him anyway, since if you're really committed to this plan, we need to take a rather drastic step to make sure you can hide your true identity. As far as anyone at your home is concerned, Mary Crawley needs to die."

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 _The hungry eyes staring at her the day she arrived in Dorset Women's Penitentiary would stay with Anna all her life. That night, her cellmate turned out to be a large woman named Edna who revealed she had murdered her husband. "I heard what you're in for," she went on. "And aren't you a sweet thing. Trouble is, sweet things don't last long in here. But if you give me what I want, I'll make sure no one hurts you."_

 _Anna had refused that night, but the next day she had been attacked. She still had no idea why, but she ended up in the infirmary with scratches on her face and a large bump on her forehead. When she got back to her cell, Edna reminded her of the promise, and hating herself every moment, she gave in. Which she continued to do for she didn't know how long, the days blending together as each one seemed exactly the same. And every time, the hulking woman continued to say what a sweet thing she was._

 _She didn't know just what had made her decide she'd had enough. At first she'd considered killing herself with one of the springs that stuck out of her filthy mattress. But just looking at it, another idea came to her. That day she'd smuggled a fork back in her sleeve, the guards having long since decided such a quiet inmate wasn't worth keeping a close eye on. She then spent every moment she could find sharpening its handle on those springs. When she finally decided it was ready, she waited until Edna had fallen asleep, then slapped her hand over the woman's mouth and nose. The instant her eyes opened, Anna plunged the sharpened handle into her chest and shouted "Here's your sweet thing!" The woman's arms lunged for her, but Anna evaded them and landed another blow, this one penetrating her throat. "Here it is!" A third strike went through an eye. "Is this how you like it?"_

 _This continued until she'd lost count. The guards found her standing defiantly over Edna's dead body, blood pooling unnoticed around her feet. She was smiling as she was put into solitary confinement, and she was still smiling when she came out._

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No one looked Anna in the eye anymore. The story hadn't taken long to spread, and now everyone was well aware of what she was capable of. The trouble was that the guards were too, and she knew she'd never be able to do it again. But as long as her fellow prisoners didn't realize that, she should be fine.

She had barely started breakfast when an explosion rocked the room. Through the dust cloud, she could just make out that there was now a sizable hole in the outside wall, which of course all the other prisoners had realized at the same time and were swarming toward as guards tried to stop them. But Anna prided herself on being smarter than that, and waited until anyone who could stop her was preoccupied before making her own move.

She had just made it outside before someone grabbed her and pulled her to the side. She whirled around prepared to fight, but it wasn't a guard. The man wore dingy clothes, and looked at her with eyes that seemed like they could be very kind, but for now were rigid with purpose. "Anna Smith, I presume? My employer gave a very good description." She nodded, unable to speak for the moment. "Good. My name is John Bates, and I'm here to get you to somewhere you can trust you'll very much want to go."


	3. Chapter 3

The coverage of Mary Crawley's death was considerably smaller in New York than in England, but it didn't hurt any less for Mary to see her own name in such a story. Martha's contact Bates had been as good as his word, arranging a carriage accident that seemed to have caused the death of a young woman who was actually already a corpse, stolen from a local homeless gathering place. From there, he arranged for some prostitutes to identity the unfortunate girl as Mary, who'd been working alongside them, and bribed the morticians to hurriedly cremate the body before anyone took it into their head to investigate further.

"So that's it. We're committed to this plan."

Martha and Matthew had both been such comforting presences throughout this whole ordeal, and now they once again gave her exactly what she needed: no insipid remarks about how the story wasn't real and it needed to be done, just a pair of silent presences whose faces gave her such warm feelings and assured her that this was the right thing.

Still, one thing did still bother her. "I hate to think how Mama and Papa are taking this. I said from the start I didn't want them hurt."

Matthew nodded. "I know. But now that it's started, it'll be over that much sooner. And if it all works out, you can be together with them again."

Mary looked off wistfully. "But will they be able to forgive me for putting them through this?"

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Bates was quick to assure them that Anna was safe, and in the confusion of the mass escape no one was especially eager to go after such a comparatively minor offender. Still, she was being kept safe for now in a vacant flat until the search died down enough that they might be able to leave the country. In the meantime, Mary tried not to think about the harm those other escaped prisoners could cause. Matthew's idea was racking up guilt rather faster than she'd expected.

Martha was hard at work as well. Her husband had left her a considerable sum from his dry goods business when he passed, so she'd never felt much need to go after more money on her own. But that head for business hadn't rusted at all, and she quickly found herself remembering just how much fun the game could be. And being a woman gave her a distinct advantage, as none of the men she dealt with considered her much of a possible competitor until it was too late.

She'd found some land in Texas that was primed for oil drilling, and got in quickly on its stocks. The results were already promising, and while there wasn't nearly enough yet to finance everything Mary and Matthew had in mind, they certainly had time to wait.

It was some months after the prison break that a knock finally came at the door, and somehow Mary knew immediately what it must be. She raced to answer it, and swept Anna up in a huge embrace, both of them openly weeping. "I'm so sorry!" she murmured into Anna's shoulder. "This is all my fault."

Anna quickly pulled away, and looked Mary in the eye just as she had that fateful night. "Do I have to remind you that I told you to go without me? I've never once considered you to blame for anything since that night. And I'm quite eager to see the people who really are at fault." Mary was troubled by what she saw in those eyes. She remembered how strong they were the last time she'd seen them, but now something darker seemed to lay over them. Just what had this girl gone through during all those months?

She pushed the thought aside, as for now she needed to greet the man beside her former maid. "John Bates, I presume?"

The man smiled, and suddenly it was like looking at a whole new person, all the hardness of a man capable of everything he'd done for her melting away. He reached for her hand, but unlike Matthew he simply gave it a brisk shake, his palm badly callused. "I was your father's batman in South Africa." He held up a cane. "It was a dangerous place. And that kind of bond lasts forever. I'd do anything for him, and the rest of his family, at least the parts that can still be considered family."

By now Martha had caught up with them and quickly went to Anna. "Ah, lovely to see you, my dear. Now don't worry, the worst is behind you now."

That darkness came over Anna's eyes again. "It can't be. Not until I know they've paid for what they did."

Martha smiled at her. "We'll do everything we can to make that happen, you can be sure." But come in, I'm sure you must be tired."

As Anna was led away, Mary turned back to Bates. "You're certainly everything Martha promised us. I look forward to working together."

Bates bowed slightly. "I hope to do my part as best I can. But I'm afraid I can't stay; I have quite a few irons in the fire back home and in my business, you can't put trust in your assistants too long or they'll start wondering why they need you. I look forward to seeing you again once you're able to get to England. Farewell for now." He turned in his laborious way and went back out.

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Martha had insisted on treating Anna to a fancy dinner out, after she'd gone so long without such comforts as a good filling meal. "Besides, I'd say we all deserve a bit of celebrating right now."

Anna dithered over the menu, overwhelmed at suddenly having so many choices, and Martha ultimately insisted she have the most expensive item, the filet mignon. They kept to casual small talk, not wanting to risk getting anyone's attention in public, and Mary was almost able to believe she was back in her old life. Especially surprising was when Anna spoke about how much she'd enjoyed her time with Bates despite their stressful circumstances, and how oddly attractive she'd started to find him. Mary was glad of that and hoped it was as real as she thought, as she deserved some happiness in the middle of all this.

That ended when their food arrived, and Anna was given a steak knife. At the sight of it, a strange look came into her eye, like she was hungrier for the knife than the food. And as she cut into it, she closed her eyes and took on an expression that could almost be described as ecstasy. Mary was now more determined than ever to know just what the poor girl had gone through, and what kind of person it had turned her into.

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The news had arrived earlier in the week of the Titanic's sinking, and the nuns of St. Mary's had spent quite some time visiting the locals who had suffered bereavements from the ship. Sybil knew she should have sympathy for them, but all she could think about was her uncle James. The mother superior had gotten word that the high-class inhabitant of St. Mary's had suffered her own family loss, and had seemed truly broken-hearted to give the news. It still wasn't enough for Sybil to forget the treatment she'd suffered ever since coming here. Besides, all she could consider was that it was too bad his son hadn't taken the trip with him.

Still, it offered a chance to leave the convent's walls, and on that note she certainly wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She took pride that the nuns had yet to break her spirit, but the whippings and missed meals had taken a toll nonetheless. She suspected that being an upper-class Englishwoman in the Irish countryside also did little to endear her to them, and it was likely Patrick had picked this place specifically for that, the cruelty of the name just being a bonus.

"You're not like the others," came a strange voice as she watched some of them speak to the woman whose husband's funeral they were attending.

She turned and folded her arms. "Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"

The man was good-looking, she supposed, though how much of that was from being starved for male company as long as she had was questionable. He replied, "I never could stand them, myself. So what are you doing with them?"

Sybil gave a rueful laugh. "It's a long and sad tale, and not one I especially feel like telling to someone I've just met. Sybil Crawley."

He kissed her hand, though with an exaggeration that she suspected meant he was mocking the custom. "Tom Branson. And seeing as you didn't bite my head off for that remark, can I assume you don't think too highly of the habited bunch either?" She simply smiled, and he went on, "Have you read Karl Marx?"

She shook her head. "He wasn't the most popular person among my family."

"With that posh accent, I should have known. So you're some rich girl slumming it with the likes of us to teach your family a lesson?"

Sybil's look suddenly sharpened. "Suddenly I think I may take offense."

Branson put his hands up defensively. "My mistake, I'm sorry. Anyway, Marx said religion was like opium, keeping people happy so they won't notice the state of the world around them. And I've never found much cause to doubt him in my life."

The man certainly was intriguing. "I regret not reading him, if he has many other such pearls of wisdom."

Branson grinned. "There's actually a whole group of us fans, you might say. We have a meeting tonight, and I think you'd enjoy it."

She laughed again. "Just one problem; I'll be stuck in the convent. I tried to sneak out a few times when I first got here, but they're like bloodhounds. I don't know how, but I never made it much past my room."

"Ah, but now you have a new advantage: me."

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Sybil finally had a reason to be thankful for having to go to bed so early, as it made her sure where she would be when Branson came to get her. She still wasn't sure just how he was planning to get through the building to her, but he assured her it was all under control.

And she found out just what he was talking about when a pounding noise sounded outside her window, and she looked out to see Branson climbing up a ladder towards her. Once he reached the top, she said, "Brilliant idea, if it wasn't for the bars on the windows."

"Oh, how you underestimate me." He took out a small bottle from a coat pocket. "One of the fellows in our group is a metalworker, and this is what he uses to etch designs into them. Now, stand back, you don't want this stuff to touch your skin."

The bottle's cap had a built-in eyedropper which he used to drip onto the bottoms of the bars, which soon let off smoke. "And what exactly am I supposed to tell the nuns in the morning?"

Branson looked up at her with surprise. "Oh, was I wrong about all this? You actually want to come back?"

"Well, no, of course not…"

"Ah, good. Then it's settled, you can stay with me after the meeting. I promise, you'll find me a perfect gentleman."

Sybil supposed she should be shocked by his forwardness, but after everything she'd been through, there was no way she was turning this down. Besides, she was starting to think he really was that attractive. "You know, I think I can safely say the cloistered life is not for me."

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They entered a small barn, where Sybil found her nose suddenly struggling to get used to a plethora of odors she'd gladly done without her whole life. Among the others present, Branson led her to a portly man with an impressive moustache. "Sybil, this is my brother Kieran."

The man didn't seem impressed. "So this is your English rose, eh Tom? Well, tell me, lassie, why should you care at all about our troubles with your own people?"

Sybil stared him down. "If you had the slightest idea what my sister and I have suffered from our own people, you wouldn't be asking that."

But that was all they had time for, as more people started talking and Sybil found herself swept up in the conversation. She was impressed to see there were about as many women around as men, all speaking on the same level. And while she was a bit shocked when the discussion turned to physically attacking places housing the area's English lords, the more the night went on, and the more she thought back over everything that had happened, she found the idea held quite an appeal.

After hearing everyone go around in circles for a while about just what the group's next step should be, Sybil spoke up. "I may have an idea…"

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Mary found herself examining her co-conspirator more and more these days. Her alliance with Matthew had started out as strictly a working relationship, but as they spent more time together refining their ideas and looking forward to the day when they could start to carry everything out, she realized she was actually falling for him. He was so easy to talk to, they shared so many interests, and of course there were his looks. She had never before given much thought to what her life might be like after they finished their revenge, but as luck would have it, an actual life with him would seem to be the perfect way to go.

Matthew's lip curled as he read the paper. "Have you heard about this mess in Ireland?"

Mary quickly headed over. "Some vague discussion at the market, but no one seemed to have any real idea what it was all about."

The article detailed a series of terrorist attacks against the homes of Englishmen living in Ireland, though there were no reported casualties, with the families apparently never being at home when their houses were bombed. After the cause had remained a mystery for a while, now the authorities had been sent a letter claiming to be from the perpetrator, which was reprinted in full.

We are the voice of the free people of the Republic of Ireland. We speak for those who are even now being ground under the boot of English tyranny, and those who have suffered under it for centuries. We cannot be stopped, for there is no greater need in the world than freedom. Our numbers are legion, and all around you. You can only end this by declaring Ireland a sovereign nation once again, and making worthwhile reparations for the countless atrocities committed against its people. Thus far we have used our kid gloves, but if you do not comply, you will soon see our whip.

Yours truly,

Queen Mab

Mary took a while to take the whole message in. "A bit overblown for my taste, but who are we to deny anyone else's right to take revenge?"

Matthew replied, "And Queen Mab, like the fairy from Shakespeare? What do you suppose that means?"

"Well, if these people actually are being led by a woman, bully for her. But more than that, it certainly makes the whole thing seem a bit larger than life. Edmond Dantes would appreciate that." She'd since read Matthew's favorite book herself, and agreed that it was one of the greats.

Mary continued thinking of the letter throughout the day. Whoever Queen Mab was, she certainly had seized on a way to make herself intimidating whatever her opponents might think of the fairer sex. Maybe Mary herself could learn from her example. The next day she borrowed a book of mythology from the library, and started looking through it to see if there were any other suitable names for her own endeavor.


	4. Chapter 4

Profiting off the misery of countless souls in the Great War had been another moral bridge Mary and Matthew had been forced to cross. She'd justified it to herself with the idea that if they hadn't done it, someone else would have, and nothing would have been improved. But some nights she still found it hard to sleep, and wondered just what she was becoming.

But it was hard to argue with the results. Martha's already bountiful oil prospects had been aided by Matthew's dabbles in arms trading, and they had finally made enough money to travel back to England and put their plan into motion. She still often had to remind herself that after so many years of waiting and hoping, it was actually happening at last.

Their first step had been to create a title that would put them in high standing with the community. They had always known this would likely be the biggest expense, and so Mary tried not to be put out at such a percentage of their wealth being wiped out right off the bat. Next, they had to look the part, with several tailored suits and gowns. Matthew had a barber help him grow a dashing thin moustache and pointed beard, while Mary realized she would have to hide her face entirely with so many people who could recognize her even these years later. They decided to turn this to their advantage, giving the new Count Donovan a wife who refused to show her face, which would doubtlessly just add to their appeal.

Patrick and Edith not coming to their dinner party had been a disappointment, but they didn't fret too much, as it was certain that such a strange pair of new residents would attract their attention. And sure enough, a few years later came a personal invitation. This actually worked out better than planned, as in what Mary grumblingly considered was their own home they'd likely be more open with news of just what the state of Downton was these days, and anything that could be turned to Mary and Matthew's own benefit.

"I wish I could be with you, my lady," said Anna as she put the finishing touches on Mary's outfit.

"Believe me, I do too. Unfortunately, explaining that this household includes two women whose faces are never seen would probably tip us over into unbelievability."

"Yes, shame about that. Well, I'm sure I'll think of something to occupy my time." Mary shuddered a bit at the relish in the voice of the woman who was acting as her maid again. It had taken a while, but she'd finally gotten the whole story of Anna's time in prison, and was very troubled at the thought of what that experience could do to even the brightest soul.

The two of them met Matthew and Bates, now acting as Matthew's valet, at the front door. Mary smiled again at how close the two of them had clearly gotten, however much they were trying to keep it under wraps for now. "Shall we, my dear?" she asked as she lowered her veil."

Matthew took her arm. "I can't wait."

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It was a galling feeling to wait to enter what should be her own home. She was surprised to find the door answered not by the familiar Carson, but a younger man in a head butler's uniform. She hoped this didn't indicate some misfortune had befallen the beloved staff member whose creaking bass voice had been such a constant and comforting presence growing up.

"The Count and Countess Donovan, to see your lord and lady," said Matthew with admirable pomp for someone who'd never actually been part of this life.

The butler nodded. "Yes, you are expected. Come in, they are waiting in the library."

The same room in which Mary's life had fallen apart. It seemed only fitting. It was quite hard to keep herself from stopping to gawk at all the familiar sights of the Abbey as she and Matthew were led through. And then they reached the library, and at the sight of her traitorous sister and cousin, all of Mary's worries over the years about going too far in her revenge flew out of her head. Seeing them rich, powerful, and contented made her want to fly across the room and throttle them. But none of this showed in the quite correct posture that had quickly come back to her from her mother's old lessons.

The butler announced them, and Patrick waved him off with a "Thank you, Barrow." The name caused a spark of memory in Mary, as she thought it was the name of a footman hired shortly before everything had fallen apart. But for now there were more important things to worry about.

Patrick and Edith stood up with what seemed for all the world to be genuine gladness to see them. Of course, they thought they would have to charm the new neighbors who seemed to wield some influence, no matter what their actual feelings. "I do apologize for missing your party, but I imagine you know what it's like on these old estates. As soon as one problem is solved, two more pop up."

Matthew chuckled. "I imagine even Hercules himself would have trouble with the Hydras I've had to deal with." Yes, Mary thought, throw in some gratuitous reference to show you're educated, that's what all these people love.

Edith piped up with, "And of course, the enigmatic countess. When I heard about your wardrobe I didn't quite believe it, but I must say the veil is quite becoming."

Mary ground her teeth a bit at the obvious insincerity, but it helped that she was about to employ one of her more amusing ideas. "Well, I thank you kindly," she replied, and had to stifle a laugh at Patrick and Edith's pitiful attempts to hide their shock, as she'd spoken with an imitation of the accent she'd heard from some of Martha's oil partners from Texas. She was sure it sounded horrible to a native of the area, but how were two such proper English aristocrats to know?

Luckily, Matthew himself was under no such compunction, and gave his own fitting laugh in character. "I'm sorry, I know it can be quite a surprise. But my business has taken me often to the American south, and after a while the charm of the local ladies became too much to resist." He was also clearly enjoying their discomfort; after all, how could they protest the idea given Edith's own parents?

Mary twisted the knife a bit further. "I had a bad case of the German measles as a girl, and the doctors were able to save me, but they couldn't do anything about my face. I thought I'd never be able to find anyone who loved me, but the Count here saw past it." She took Matthew's hand, and he gave her a comforting grip back.

Patrick and Edith now looked delightfully uncomfortable, and when it seemed neither of them were going to break the silence, Matthew said, "You must forgive her, these Americans don't share our sense of decorum, but I've grown to find her frankness quite appealing. You must be familiar with that, Lady Edith, given what we heard about your mother."

Edith was snapped back to the moment on being directly addressed. "Oh, Papa had all kinds of stories about when Mama first came here, but she'd largely gone native by the time I came around." Mary caught a brief hesitation when it came to speaking about Cora. Could Edith have some measure of regret for what she'd done? Well, it didn't matter. All Mary cared about now was what had actually happened.

And as long as she was building a reputation for not standing on social appropriateness, she might as well dig a bit further. "Speaking of, the papers have been pretty stingy about what happened to the former earl and his wife. I'd like to drop in on them some time and catch up with a fellow carpetbagger."

Edith looked to Patrick; now she really was uncomfortable with the topic. But Patrick didn't seem moved at all. "The poor dears just went through too much to consider staying on. Their other daughters ran into horrible scandals, and now one's passed away and the other's who knows where. Now they live in another place on the property called Crawley House." Mary recognized the name; so that old place was now inhabited again? "They're quite well looked after, as the former head butler and housekeeper left to take care of them. It was best for all; they're all quite set in their ways and were starting to have some trouble with the new way of doing things."

Mary couldn't stop a sigh of relief at knowing Carson was all right, and Mrs. Hughes too, but fortunately it seemed no one had noticed.

Matthew nodded. "I thought the fellow who greeted us was a bit young for the station."

"I imagine it came as quite a shock to Mr. Barrow, but he's stepped up to the task quite ably. But now, what of you two? I'm sure there must be more to your story than we've heard."

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Thomas felt a flush of pride at Lord Grantham doling out such praise. Even if it did have to come from listening at the keyhole himself, when typically he would be relying on O'Brien to do this kind of work for him. It still pained him that he'd been forced to sever their partnership, and as far as he knew the poor lady still had no idea why he'd suddenly become so distant from her.

" _Well, that's one way to move up in the world, I suppose," came the sudden voice of Patrick, causing Thomas and Duke Phillip to both shout and leap apart from each other._

 _Phillip stood up with remarkably unearned poise, and pulled on his trousers as he said, "I know the game, and I trust we can work something out?"_

 _Patrick scoffed. "As it happens, I don't have any use for you at the moment. Just one more blue blood trying to add some flavor to his pitiful life, a quite common tale." Then he turned to Thomas, still cowering and struggling to keep himself covered with the bedsheet. "You, on the other hand…"_

 _Phillip finished dressing and left the room. "My wife has been having some problems with her new maid," he said as he advanced on Thomas. "She's gotten the idea that the only reason Mrs. O'Brien didn't leave with the other two was to get payback for her former mistress. And after observing things for myself, I've come to much the same conclusion. And a certain member of the staff has let me know that she's particularly close with you."_

 _Thomas tried to reply, but could only stammer in his continuing shock. Philip went on, "You know what she's up to, don't you? Perhaps you're even a part of it. Well, now I want you to put a stop to it. You know what I was able to do to Lady Mary, and I don't imagine it'll be very hard when the accusation is actually true."_

He had done as asked, and their friendship had been permanently soured. Even worse, Patrick made sure to inform him that this was far from the end of their arrangement. He could reveal Thomas' secret any time he wanted, and that meant Thomas was his to do with however he pleased. There had been several more jobs of this nature over the years, some of which had actually resulted in genuine praise which he found himself reveling in despite his own wishes. It seemed he was rather more weak-willed than he'd imagined. And he guessed that soon there would be another such job about the new arrivals.

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As they returned to Haxby Park, after finishing their giggles at how badly Mary had discombobulated her sister and cousin, Matthew said, "I hope some useful information came out of that. There were a few times where I wasn't sure I'd be able to control myself any more."

Mary nodded. "We know where Mama and Papa are, which was one of the things I was most curious about. And they're with Carson and Mrs. Hughes, two of the most steadfast and trustworthy people it's ever been my pleasure to know. Crawley House had been empty since long before I was born, but it's certainly a comfortable place." She paused a bit, unsure to go ahead with her next thought, but even with his new look Matthew's eyes were so inviting and loving that she went for it. "In fact, what do you think of leaving them a message?"

Matthew frowned. "It's far too early to let anyone else know about us."

"Oh, nothing about who we are. Just letting them know that someone is on their side and working to make things right. Ever since we faked my death I've felt guilty about what I was putting them through, and I just want to make it a little better."

He sighed. "All right. Now let's get into something more comfortable while I try to resist the urge to burn this suit."

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Robert looked curiously at the letter on the stoop of Crawley House. Whoever had knocked on the door was gone, and it featured no hint as to who they were, with no writing at all. But when he took it inside and read it, he felt his heart stop.

"Cora, look at this," he said as he entered the sitting room. The note was small, simply saying, "I cannot tell you who I am, but know that I am working to get justice for you and your daughters. May we one day be able to meet."

Cora actually raised herself out of the languidness that she was stuck in most of the time these days. "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

Robert shook his head. "Don't ask me why, but it feels like it's true. And if that's the case, I wish them jolly good luck."

He kept to himself the most important piece of news. After Mary's death and their banishment to this place, he'd comforted himself with the few physical keepsakes of his daughter that were left. This included her primary school assignments from when she was learning the alphabet, and as a consequence he was intimately familiar with every twist and curl of her handwriting. The writing on the note wasn't quite the same, and if he didn't miss his guess was done by someone trying to disguise the way they usually wrote, but his practiced eye picked up on several unmistakable similarities.

There was always a chance he was seeing things in his desperate need to see his girl again, so he wouldn't tell Cora just yet. Besides, if it really was her, she clearly didn't want him knowing that just yet, and he would respect those wishes. But for the moment, he felt a spark of life inside him that he had thought long extinguished, and hoped that when the day came, he would be able to do his part to serve out justice.

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 _A/N: After reading some reviews, I realized I haven't yet made clear on this site that this story is not my idea; it comes from Mr. Chaos, who's been including story ideas for anyone to pick up in his own Downton fic Authors of Our Own Fate. It's very good, check it out!_

 _Mary's accent is a nod to Michelle Dockery's cameo in Hanna, a sorely underappreciated film that is hopefully getting more attention as an early starring role for Lady Bird._


	5. Chapter 5

Mary, Matthew, Bates, and Anna gathered together at breakfast. Despite the nominal social positions they presented to the outside world, behind closed doors they all lived as equals, and that included taking their meals together. Mary had privately balked at the situation at first, but with Matthew's encouragement she gave it a try, and now she found a whole new sense of camaraderie with her supposed staff, seeing them as true friends.

"Edmond Dantes has four enemies, who each have their own weakness," she said, and turned to Matthew. "I think we can agree that Patrick and Edith are the most like Danglars, and the way to get to them is through their money."

Bates chuckled. "A method I'm quite familiar with, though never on quite a scale as those two would involve. So what do you propose."

Matthew took over. "In the book, Dantes sends fake telegrams to get Danglars to make bad investments. Then there's a whole business with kidnapping him and starving him, but I think that would be a bit baroque for the real world."

"Oh, I wouldn't count it out completely," said Anna, as she finishing spreading jam on her bread. But she didn't put her silverware down, and instead started stroking her knife against her fork in a manner reminiscent of sharpening it. The others all ignored it, having by now long accepted it as her way of keeping herself relaxed.

Mary quickly butted in. "Well, unfortunately things have gotten a bit more complex since Dumas' time, and we can't just take over a telegraph station with no one noticing. Besides, there's the little matter that their money is also our money. The family needs to go on once we've taken it back."

Anna stopped her fussing with the knife. "What about the Dowager Countess? She always struck me as someone who wouldn't stand for what was done to you, and she must have some connections that could help us."

Mary shook her head. "She could help, but not just yet. I want to keep our group as small as possible for now in case we can't actually get anything going. They've all suffered enough from this, and I won't add conspiracy charges on top of it."

Bates, who'd so far been silent, gave an uncomfortable cough. "If you really are thinking of doing something along these lines, I may know a way to get started."

Matthew clapped his hands. "Now that's the spirit! Why didn't you speak up sooner?"

Bates' eyes dropped from them all. "Well, we haven't spoken about it much, and I appreciate your consideration, but the fact is I'm a figure of the criminal class. And I'm sure you know people like me are all about territory in the end. The fact is, there's someone who's been trying to make inroads on my territory, and they're more powerful than me. My people are exceptionally loyal, though, so we've been at a stalemate. But one of their rackets involves the financial sector, and part of that is knowing what people to press for a desired result. And since I have something to offer…"

Mary hoped her shock wasn't showing too much. "And you'd do this for us?"

He shrugged. "Like I said when we first met, your father and I have a bond closer than most. I won't lie, I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I always knew it was a chance, and I've been trying to prepare myself as best I can."

Matthew reached across the table and took Bates' hand. "I won't pretend to understand everything about this, but know you have my greatest thanks, and Mary's too."

Bates nodded. "And I appreciate it. Although there is one more thing you should probably know."

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"Hello, Vera," said Bates as his former wife answered the door.

That hateful smirk that had become so familiar crossed her face. "There have been some rumors you've been playing butler on some big estate. I suppose it was too much to hope you'd decided to leave for good."

An invitation inside didn't seem to be coming, so he launched into business from the front step. "I admit it, you've been better at this game than me. Even though we both know you only got into it because you wanted to beat me at it."

"What can I say, it just seems to come naturally. Stealing some silver seems rather beneath me now, doesn't it?"

She was trying to rile him up by bringing up the prison time he'd done for her. He refused to rise to the bait. "I'm prepared to give you a portion of my territory, in exchange for some information."

Bates was pleased to see her briefly taken off guard by this. "I won't ask what brought this on, because I honestly don't care. But it seems the advantage is mine, so why don't we just make it everything you have?"

That got through all his efforts to control his temper. "Vera, you know I can't agree to that."

She chuckled. "And yet, it's all I'll agree to. So you need to ask yourself, just how important is this information to you? I'll even give it to you first, because I know you'll keep your word."

Bates couldn't tell just how long he stood there staring at her. But no matter how he approached it, there was no way to deny that Vera had him. Either give up his hard-won status on the streets to the woman who'd become his most hated enemy, or betray the deepest trust he'd ever known. He came close to laughing at fate for putting him in this position, but ended up holding it in and just saying, "All right, all of it."

That actually surprised her again. "That was much easier than I was expecting; you really must be desperate. Well, let's go find some witnesses for this."

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It felt like so little in exchange for everything he'd built, but here he was, outside the office of the man who would enable Mary and Matthew to get their plans off the ground. Tomorrow he would tell his lieutenants that they would now answer to Vera, and likely never see them again. Well, at least it would give him more time to focus on helping the Crawleys.

His knock was answered. "Michael Gregson?" He only got a curt nod and a step back inviting him in. "My name is John Bates. I assume you recognize the surname."

Gregson's face simply looks resigned. "So you're with her. That woman's had me on a leash for years, forcing me to make erroneous reports with no idea why. I suppose it's too much to hope you're here to tell me it's over."

Bates shook his head slowly, a technique he'd found worked wonders on getting people to take him seriously. "We actually don't talk much, but we've just made a deal that led me to you. I know all about your wife, and I have access to the proof needed to make your arrangement public." Gregson started to speak, but Bates put up a hand to silence him. "I know, it's not illegal, but the simple fact that you've kept it a secret means you have some other reason for that. I'm guessing just your reputation, but it doesn't really matter, does it?"

Gregson hung his head. "All right, so what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, nothing just yet. This visit is just to let you know you'll be serving two masters from now on. You see, I'm not what you'd call my own boss either, and I'll be back once I have orders. For now, just keep well. I wouldn't want my new investment to not be in a position to help me, after all."

After he left the office, Gregson collapsed into his chair and started weeping.

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Bates was warmly greeted by Matthew and Mary once he arrived back at Haxby Park. "Was it so horrible as you thought?" Matthew asked, full of sympathy.

"I gave her everything. It was surprisingly easy, actually. I'll always be loyal to the true Lord Grantham, and today I suppose I proved to myself just how much I mean that."

Mary gave him a warm hug. "I'll never forget this, and I assure you Papa won't either once I tell him."

Bates smiled at her. "All part of the job, and I knew that going in. Now, where's Anna?"

They looked confused. "She followed you to the station, and never came back. We assumed you'd met up and decided to go together," said Mary.

Bates was just as puzzled. "I assure you, I haven't seen her all day. What could she be up to?"

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Anna was sure Bates had spotted her several times. But he had never approached her, and she supposed the prospect of seeing his hated ex-wife again, while she was in such a position of power over him, had taken up all his thoughts for a while. Whatever the reason, she had even been able to get close enough to their conversation to hear every word.

She'd only gone because she wanted to see what kind of woman had previously captured Bates' heart. Those months she'd spent with him waiting for the heat to die down had let her see his inner kindness that had been buried under the tough exterior he had to put on for his criminal work, and her love had only grown since. But hearing just how much Vera now hated him, and what she wanted to take from him, a whole new idea began to come together.

Vera didn't look impressed by her at all. It was no more than Anna had expected. "Well, what do you want knocking on my door this late?"

Anna had made sure to wait until everyone else was in their homes, and there was no one else walking around, so she wouldn't have to use any kind of pretense. "I'm a friend of your former husband, and I don't appreciate what you did to him today."

She laughed loudly enough that Anna briefly worried it would bring someone looking. "And I suppose you're going to beg and plead for him, because we're both women and I'll listen to you?"

For the first time in a long time, Anna gave a genuine smile. "Not exactly. You see, Mr. Bates is going to stand by the deal you made, because that's just the kind of person he is. It's what drew me to him in the first place, that he's a good person. He's not like me."

Before Vera had any time to react to that, Anna whipped out the kitchen knife she'd taken to hiding in her sleeve and stabbed it forward. Vera quickly dodged back, and Anna followed her into the flat and slammed the door. But her opponent was much larger, and unlike last time she was wide awake and ready to defend herself.

Anna made several more slashes, but Vera eventually charged forward and took one full on the forearm, barely showing any sign of pain as she grabbed Anna's wrist with her other hand and squeezed until she was forced to let go. She was then pushed to the floor, and the other woman was suddenly on top of her with a flurry of blows that left her no time to think.

In a last desperate move, she swiped at Vera's face, and was rewarded with a cry of pain and the end of the punishment as the woman stumbled back. As her vision started to return, Anna could see her fingernails had ripped deep gouges down Vera's cheek, and a look at her hand showed that one of the nails had even torn off itself, though she didn't feel anything for the moment.

Anna knew she couldn't lose this chance, and she quickly found her knife on the floor, then raced forward and plunged it upward under Vera's jaw. As the woman was still gagging wide-eyed from this likely fatal injury, Anna decided not to take any chances and pulled it back out, then pushed her to the floor and slashed her throat. It was only as she was sprayed with blood that a sharp throbbing from her finger came to her, and with it a cold realization of just what she'd done.

She stumbled around the unfamiliar place until she found the kitchen, and quickly set to washing off her victim's blood. She couldn't find any bandages, so she simply wrapped her finger in a dish towel and squeezed until she felt the bleeding slow. Her clothes were the bigger problem, as the blood stubbornly refused to leave them completely. She considered swapping them for Vera's own clothes but soon found their different sizes would make it impossible to get far this way. She settled for a heavy overcoat, and just had to hope it wouldn't draw much attention.

She was almost out the door before she remembered the biggest piece of evidence pointing toward her, the fingernail. Luckily, there wasn't much of an area to search and she quickly found it. She also took the time to ransack the place a bit more, hoping any police that found the body would think it was a robbery.

She caught a late train back to Haxby Park. Now all that was left to worry about was explaining herself to her friends.


	6. Chapter 6

Matthew, Mary, and Bates were all up late into the night, unable to sleep for worry of where Anna could be and what she could be doing. Though none of them spoke it out loud, Mary was sure they were all thinking of her obsession with knives. And so they all sprang up when the front doorbell sounded, sure that it could only be her.

It was, but any relief was quickly overtaken by worry at Anna's haggard, shivering appearance. Mary brought a warm blanket to her in the sitting room, where everyone gathered after the usual fussing about how glad they were to see her. "Now then," said Matthew, "could you tell us where you've been?"

Anna looked like she was about to cry, but nothing came out. Mary got the odd feeling that all her tears had been cried out already. "I'm so sorry about this, I just wasn't thinking. I just had to see her, after finding out Mr. Bates had been in love before." She turned away from Bates at that, blushing furiously.

Bates looked quite embarrassed himself. "Well, I suppose I can't say this comes out of nowhere. I've noticed the way you look at me, and perhaps I should have said something sooner. But surely you won't do something like this again?"

Anna stared ahead at nothing, and her next words came out with an eerie lack of emotion. "I won't have to. It's done, and you have nothing to worry about from her anymore."

Everyone's faces took on a sudden horrified edge. "What do you mean?" asked Mary, not sure she wanted to know the answer."

Still staring into the distance, Anna went on, "I heard what she was going to make you do, and I couldn't let it happen. It was really that simple. She's dead." At the final word, something seemed to break inside her, and more tears came after all.

It was clear that they wouldn't be getting any more at the moment, so the others all looked at each other in disbelief. "Bates, could this actually be good for us?" said Matthew. "After all, she could have been a big complication, and now you get to keep your operation if we ever need it again."

Bates took a few more seconds to gather his thoughts. "That's certainly the case. And you can be sure I won't be shedding any tears for Vera. The problem is, can the police trace it back here?" He turned back to Anna, and noticed her bloody finger as she was burying her face in her hands. And much as he didn't want to, he forced his concern to the back of his mind and focused on the problem at hand. "Anna, how badly were you hurt? Could you have left any evidence behind?"

Somehow, this got through to her. While she wasn't so calm as before, she wasn't helplessly weeping anymore either. "Oh no, I took care of that." She reached into the pocket of Vera's coat and took out the fingernail. Mary's stomach turned at the gruesome sight, with bits of skin and blood still clinging to it, but also felt relief that Anna could think well enough in the moment to not leave it behind.

Bates was also clearly affected, and loudly coughed a few times before he continued. "Well, that's…certainly a good start. And I imagine that coat is hers too?" At Anna's nod, he said, "We'll have to burn it. It's the only way we can be sure no one will trace it here."

Anna sobbed out, "So that's all? It's going to be all right?"

Mary and Matthew both looked at Bates, and he gave a wry chuckle. "No need to be so polite about it. Yes, I'm the one with experience in these kinds of situations. And Anna, I'm sorry, but we can't know that. You're sure you can't recall any other evidence you might have left?" She vehemently shook her head. "Then we'll just have to hope that when the police find the scene, as they surely will, there's no one smart enough to put the few pieces they have together. I've known them to work miracles, and miss something right in front of their face. All we can do is be careful. And," he leaned in close to make sure she felt the full import, "we discuss anything like this together from now on. It's the only way we can hope to stay ahead of the law together."

Anna bowed her head, saying nothing, because there was simply no more to say.

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All those years of finding eavesdropping places at Downton had come in quite handy for Thomas, providing an education in the ways that sound could travel and the best places to hear someone talking without their seeing you. He was also grateful to the previous owners of Haxby Park, whose delinquencies in keeping the building in good repair even in places visitors wouldn't see had left it a few extra spots ideally suited to the purpose.

In this case, some rot-weakened floorboards in a dark corner of the sitting room created a sound passageway that passed into a spot in the old servants' quarters, which were currently unoccupied. And he couldn't believe what he'd heard, admissions of murder from Countess Aine's maid and further criminal activities from the butler if he judged right. It was information that Patrick would be very pleased with.

So it was a shame his master would not be hearing about it.

Thomas had skulked around the house for most of the day on Patrick's orders, and was close to giving it up as a waste of time when he saw the maid approaching in a horrible state. And something about her look struck her as familiar, but he quickly shoved the idea aside to focus on his job. But then he heard her addressed by name, and suddenly the recognition hit: this was the same maid who had been arrested for her illegal sexual preferences. Patrick had intimated that the accusation was a lie as Lady Mary was regarded, but he'd said nothing about Anna, and Thomas naturally had quite a soft spot for someone in that situation.

And so, after the conversation ended and he was left to think things over, he decided that whatever was going on here, he was going to help. He didn't know what use he could be, or how he could even approach them to make the offer, but Anna's presence meant they were doubtlessly working against Patrick, and he knew which side of that fight he should be on.

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Anna was startled and confused when a knock came on her bedroom door. She'd already said everything she'd needed to, and her allies all seemed satisfied with it, so who could this be now. She opened the door despite only being dressed in her nightgown; what could a little scandal like this mean to her after what she'd just done?

Bates quickly averted his eyes, but not quite as quickly as she could have, she was excited to notice. "Well, what is it?" She also wasn't feeling very much like observing social niceties at the moment.

Still looking away, Bates stuttered out, "I just felt I owed you an explanation for what you saw. You see, when I first met Vera…"

By this point his refusing to look at her was getting silly, and she interrupted with, "Oh, just take it all in, you big goose."

This didn't seem to aid his nerves any, but at least he was now looking her in the eye. "When I first met Vera, I was young and foolish. You probably couldn't tell, but she was very attractive back then, and at the time, that was all I cared about. I saw more than was there, and I imagine she was happy to take advantage of that."

Anna was starting to feel tears in her eyes again. "So is that all you came to say?"

Bates gave the same ponderous head shake he'd given to Gregson, with a quite different meaning this time. "My whole life, I've had to work my way up. I fought and bled for what I have, and no one was really on my side, some of them were just too afraid to go against me. Until you. Doing that for me…it's a whole new feeling. I'd wondered for some time if you felt the same way for me that I do for you, and now I know."

Anna took a step back. "Is this real?"

Bates remained in the doorway, which just made her love him even more. "It's as real as you want it to be."

She stepped right up to him. "Then I want it." She kissed him hungrily, and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut as she spun around.

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Inspector Vyner primly held a handkerchief over his mouth and nose as he examined the body of Vera Bates. It had been sitting there long enough to start stinking up the flats next door, which was what had brought the police calling. He doubted anyone would ever want to take the place over, with how the smell had now wormed its way everywhere.

"You never get used to it, do you?" said the local cop he'd met at the door.

"Not in my experience. It was a violent one, obviously. Typically with these types it's just a shot or two to the head."

"Yes, that's why we're thinking it was something more personal than the typical gang fights. Especially those four parallel scratches on her face; only one thing I can think of makes a wound like that." He mimed a swiping motion with his fingers.

Vyner shuddered. "And with how deep they are, we're talking about long fingernails. I suppose it could be a man who'd gone too long without trimming, but my gut is saying we're looking for another woman. And did you notice the one that stops a bit before the others? I suppose I would have been told right away if you boys had found a fingernail around here."

The cop shook his head. "Seems she was smart enough to take it with her. There was a bloody hand towel in the sink that looked like someone tried to clean it, but you know how it is with these things."

Vyner sighed. "So that's a dead end. Any associates outside her gang?"

"Well, she was married to a fellow named John Bates, though it ended long before she moved in here so none of the neighbors would be able to recognize him."

The inspector snapped his fingers. "That name's actually come up a bit on my side of things. He's deep in some nasty things himself, and if things were that bad between them, he could have been part of it, even if he didn't use the blade himself. We'd better find him quick."


	7. Chapter 7

Anna was the next to arrive to breakfast after Mary and Matthew began, and Mary couldn't help but notice a different aura about her. The poor woman had been so changed by her time in prison, with a hardness to her eyes and severity to her movements that broke her heart to see. But now, while they weren't gone completely, she was much more recognizable as the sweet, kind woman who Mary had known before all the unpleasantness happened.

Mr. Bates came in shortly afterwards. There wasn't much change in him, but then he'd always appeared much more contented with his lot in life and current doings than Anna. Suddenly, Mary had an idea what the explanation was, though neither of them said anything about it. But were they a little too anxious about showing each other tenderness during the meal? Mary thought so, and smiled to herself. It was their business what they wanted to share about their private lives, and for now she was just glad two in their group had taken the opportunity for a little happiness in the middle of all the darkness that had consumed them.

She briefly considered the situation of herself and Matthew. She still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to him about whether their phony marriage could become something real, but now she felt much more that she should get it over with, if those two could do it with such fine results.

Matthew opened the morning paper, and sighed. "That Queen Mab is at it again. This time a whole family nearly lost their lives."

Hearing the name seemed to snap a connection into Mary's head, so quickly did a fully formed idea arrive in it. "She's still after English in Ireland, is she?"

Bates shook his head sadly. "There's so much blood on every side in that country. We'll probably be dealing with it for decades more."

Matthew, though, was now giving Mary an intrigued expression. "I know that look in your eye. What's the new idea?"

Mary's smile widened. "I think I know what story we should have Mr. Gregson write."

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Gregson looked both confused and horrified. "If it gets out that I fabricated a story like this, it will be the end of my career!"

Bates nodded. "Which is why my associates and I are going to do our best to make sure none of this comes back to you. You can at least trust that we want to protect our investment."

This didn't seem to make him feel any better. "And worse, what if this seriously affects what's happening in Ireland? The place could erupt into total war at any day, and a story like this might be what tips it over. I don't think I could live with myself."

Bates cringed inwardly, as this was the exact same issue he'd had when Mary revealed her plan. Still, it wouldn't do at all to have Gregson know that, so with a great effort he forced all emotion from his face and presented himself at his most intimidating. "Then it seems you have a choice to make. Do you care more about your conscience, or your wife?"

Gregson went pale. "You wouldn't…please don't do anything to hurt her!"

Bates felt like he'd been slapped. He hadn't meant to imply anything of the sort, and was only referring to his earlier threat to reveal the man's secret. And that he could be so easily thought capable of such an act chilled him deep. But once again, if he let Gregson see any of that, the whole game was up. So he summoned up all the acting talent he'd amassed over years of this sort of work, and loomed over him so that he seemed to shrink into his desk. "It's all up to you. I'll leave you to your decision."

It wasn't until leaving the building that Bates allowed himself to feel the full weight of what had just happened. He came close to weeping openly, and it was only the sudden thought of how conspicuous it would make him that stopped it. As it was, he still had to lean against the wall, and breathed hard as he waited until he felt up to the walk back to the station.

He was still waiting when he heard a sharp "Ahem!" from behind him. He turned around and was dismayed to recognize two of the thugs Vera had hired when they first started their rivalry. She'd apparently paid them well, as they'd remained loyal to her all this time, and they currently bore identical expressions of hatred towards him.

"You actually had the stones to come back here," said the larger one (Bates had never bothered to learn their names). "Lucky us."

The smaller one simply giggled. Bates couldn't remember ever hearing him talk; he left that to others until it was time for more physical work. Belying his size, the man was a fearsome knife fighter, and Bates doubted he would be able to survive this encounter even if he'd had his old physical prowess.

The one thing he had going for him was that it was midday in a highly populated area, but he knew quite a few areas nearby where someone could find privacy, and it was too much to hope that they didn't. And sure enough, the larger one patted his coat pocket that clearly held a gun, and gestured with his eyes to get moving.

Bates considered trying to fight them off, but that was where the same situation fully turned against him. If he won, everyone around would be talking about the man with a cane who beat up two people in the street, and inevitably the authorities would trace him back to Haxby Park, and that would be the end of their whole escapade. So he turned around, and tried to prepare himself as best he could. He'd done this one last thing, and maybe it would be all they needed from him. But as soon as he started making peace with that, he remembered Anna. The woman had been through so much in her life already, and this might break her completely.

He'd made an effort to retain his dignity, the last thing left to him as he was marched to his death. But that final thought left him unable to go on without grabbing one last chance as they entered a dark alley where they were all alone.

"I didn't kill her. I didn't even touch her. I swear, I was going to stick by our arrangement." Neither of them even responded, and Bates' bad leg was the only thing keeping him from dropping to his knees. "You can have anything you want. Take over all my territory yourselves, even. Just, I'm begging you, let me go."

"Yes, I'd listen to him." It was a woman's voice, and she stood at the alley mouth. Bates' attackers both turned in surprise.

The larger man laughed. "This is no business of yours, missy. Just beat it and let the men work."

The woman copied his laugh mockingly. "It so happens that was the exact wrong thing to say. I'm not stupid enough to enter a neighborhood like this unprepared." She dug in her purse, and the two men started toward her while Bates still remained frozen by this unexpected intrusion. Then they both stopped dead in their tracks, and Bates saw she'd pulled out a sizable revolver. She laughed again. "You were expecting a Derringer? No 'woman's gun' for me, I'm afraid."

The smaller man started moving again, seeming to bet on her not actually having the guts to use her weapon. She promptly shot the ground at his feet, and he stopped again. The larger man said, "What the hell are you doing, butting into our business? I've never seen you before, which means you're not in any racket in these parts, so what's in it for you?"

She gave a predatory smile. "Perhaps I just like rescuing people in distress. It doesn't really matter, does it? Because if you stick around any longer, I can't guarantee you'll get out of this with your lives. Look in my eyes and see if you think I'm bluffing."

Bates was a bit too far away to see, but they apparently believed her, as without any further words they both slunk away. The larger man started to say, "You'd better not…" but was shut up as the woman took a step toward him.

Once they were gone, Bates wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "My profound thanks, madam. You've saved more than you know."

She put the gun away. "I've never been able to abide bullies. Any day where I can show some what for is a good one."

Bates' heart sank a bit at what she'd think of how he'd just treated Gregson. But there was no need for her to know. "Well, I'd certainly be glad to count you as a friend. My business will likely take me back to these parts a few times in the foreseeable future."

"I'd like that." Bates was bemused to see her stick out her hand sideways for a masculine handshake, rather than holding it to be kissed. "I'm Sarah Bunting."

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Mary had many fond memories of the summer flower show from her childhood. She loved seeing so many flowers, all beautiful in their own way, and her grandmother's inevitable triumph each year provided a grand celebration into the night where she and her sisters had been allowed to stay up later than usual. Well, Edith's betrayal had spoiled that part of it, but she still found herself enjoying the show itself.

But she never lost sight of the real reason she and Matthew were here, and kept her eyes peeled for Patrick and Edith. It wouldn't be a total loss if they couldn't play their part before Gregson's story was released, but it would certainly help steer any possible suspicion away from them. At last she spotted her cousin across the lawn and started making her way over, but just before she reached him, an announcer called out, "And now, making their annual return, I'm delighted to again introduce The Cheerful Charlies!"

Mary initially paid this no mind, but was brought up short when she heard a familiar voice coming from the stage. Yes, it was actually Carson, singing and dancing! There was another man with him she didn't recognize, but she paid that no mind. After all, she was right next to one of the best people to ask how this came about. "Oh my, Sir Patrick!" she said, remembering just in time to use her accent and even slipping in a mis-titling just to get under his skin a bit. "You'd never hear singing like that in the States! Are they famous or something?"

Patrick sniffed haughtily. "I suppose you could say that. The bigger chap used to be the butler at Downton. Like I told you, he left to stay with the former Earl. You'd never catch him dead doing something like this when I first knew him, but after the change he got back in touch with the other fellow about doing an old stage act once in a while. I suppose he figured there was no use standing on ceremony anymore, and I can't begrudge him taking happiness where he can find it."

Mary was disturbed to find herself agreeing with all that, and forced herself to not actually shake as she forced her mind back to the business at hand. "I suppose you read about the trouble in Ireland this morning?"

Edith's voice came from behind her. "Terrible, isn't it? All we've done for that country and now this is how they tell us it's enough." Mary hated how she jumped, but quickly got back under control. It helped to think how annoyed her sister still was every time she spoke in her current role.

"Well, my husband just decided to take action. He says the way this Queen Mab is going, she'll soon be coming after all our money, and it's not safe keeping it in the bank anymore. So he's been making some withdrawals, not enough to raise attention but it'll give us something to fall back on if they do make the system go under."

Patrick chuckled. "Well, all our money is safely invested in this country, so I don't see how that could happen to us."

That was exactly what Mary was hoping to hear. "Oh, you do whatever you want, and it won't make no never mind to me. Now I just have to hear more of the singing butler. It's like something out of P.G. Wodehouse!"

Sometimes reactions like the ones she got to all of that made a scheme worth it all by themselves.

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"God in Heaven!" Edith hadn't yet reached the dining room for breakfast when Patrick's shout echoed down the hall. She raced the rest of the way, and he shoved the newspaper at her. "Maybe we should be taking that woman's advice after all."

Michael Gregson's article was an alert from a source in Ireland that Queen Mab was about to expand her operation into England.

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"We're not going to England, are we?"

Sybil was quite taken aback at Kieran's question. "I wasn't planning on it. Why?"

"Some of my sources say the papers over there have gone a bit mad about Queen Mab coming over for some nefarious purpose."

Sybil couldn't help smiling a bit, and said with an ironic twist, "You hear that, Tom? I'm in the papers!"

Kieran gave a brief unsettled look at the warm look that passed between them. Even with all Sybil had done to help their cause, he still wasn't happy with his brother taking up with an Englishwoman. At least he'd learned by now not to make a fuss over it.

Tom said, "Still, it makes you wonder what exactly they're on about. I mean, after a while it's going to become clear that none of it was true."

"Oh, I'm never surprised by the English press anymore. But yes, this does seem a bit oddly specific for one of their panic stories." She paused in thought. "Maybe we should make it a bit more true."

Kieran laughed. "What, go to England and blow up Parliament?"

"As fun as that sounds, I was thinking just finding out what exactly was behind this. We need to know what was the first paper to say anything about it before the others picked it up, and to do that, we need to be in England." Her smile grew wider. "This should be a quite special homecoming."


	8. Chapter 8

Sarah O'Brien felt herself die a little each time she helped Edith get dressed in the morning. It was a sign of one more day when she'd failed to do anything to avenge her proper mistress, whose own daughter had treated her so shamefully.

But as much as she blamed herself, an equal ire was reserved for Thomas. She was reasonably certain she'd worked out the reason for his sudden turn against her; his bedroom predilections being turned against him were the only thing she could figure to make any sense after how long they'd known each other and shared such confidence. But still, she was disgusted by how complete his capitulation was, when the man she'd known before would surely have found a way to fight back.

But then, what did that say about her, who was still going about fulfilling her new mistress' every whim? She'd considered just vanishing in the night a few times, but was always stopped by the idea that the true Countess might still need her help somehow, and she had to be in a position to give it when the time came.

At least Edith's suspicions of her seemed to have died down since Thomas turned on her, which meant she wasn't constantly on her toes around someone who could make her life very difficult with a finger snap. They could even have something approaching civilized conversation now, though they'd clearly never reach the same rapport O'Brien had with Cora.

"Quite a bit of excitement lately, I gather," she said as she buttoned up Edith's dress.

Edith let out a sigh. "It's a foolish thing, really. But Patrick has become a bit obsessed with protecting his money now that this Queen Mab is supposedly on her way here."

"You don't think she is?"

Edith smirked. "Let's say I have my own reasons for not taking newspaper headlines at face value." O'Brien frowned, knowing exactly what she was talking about, but luckily her position behind Edith kept her from seeing it. "But just try telling my husband that. He's been out of his mind trying to clear as much of our savings out of the banks as he can."

O'Brien honestly found herself a bit intrigued now. "And then what, stuff it all in your mattress?"

Edith barked a short laugh. "It may well have crossed his mind. But for now he's putting it in Downton Place. Apparently there's a spot he liked to hide things as a boy, that everyone else has long forgotten about."

O'Brien couldn't help chuckling a bit herself. "Hopefully he'll have gotten over it by Lady Rose's visit. It wouldn't do for her parents to hear about the earl acting like this."

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"So because of some Irish terrorist who's probably never even coming, we'll all have to deal with the earl being a bit…eccentric for a while," O'Brien concluded over the staff supper.

Thomas didn't say a word. This wasn't the right time, in front of everyone. He knew he'd been handed a big key to whatever the Count and his wife were up to, and he would have to be very careful how he went about using it. O'Brien was probably already a burned bridge, but he was sure he would be able to find another person on the staff who would want to strike back against their master. But who?

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Mary had spent the past several days feeling like she'd contributed nothing. She'd planted the seed that would hopefully lead to Patrick and Edith making their money more accessible, but all this waiting and being able to do little but hope it came up in conversation to find out if it happened made her feel like climbing the walls. Add on her persistent feelings towards Matthew, and the wait was becoming unbearable.

And she made her decision then and there. One of those things she could do nothing about at the moment, but she could for the other one, so it was time she did. As Matthew pored over a book in the library (The Lady of the Camellias; it seemed he was equally enamored with the junior Dumas), she cleared her throat.

He looked up with an expectant look. "Any news?"

She'd expected that reaction; what else had they had to talk about for so long? "Sadly, not yet. This is more of a…personal question." She'd set out so determined, but now she quickly felt herself wilting again and forced herself to stand up straight.

Matthew also got to his feet. "What do you mean?"

She briefly looked away before continuing. There was no use obfuscating any more. "Have you enjoyed these years we've spent together?"

Matthew looked baffled. "They've certainly been invigorating. I've felt more alive than even in my old job. Why do you ask?"

"What I mean is, do you like being around me?"

Now it seemed the penny had dropped. "Are you asking what I think you are?"

She suddenly found herself quite flustered. Why couldn't he make this any easier? "I've just been doing some thinking for a while now, and I believe I would like to continue our relationship once this is all over. And I just want to know if you feel the same way."

Matthew simply stared at her for a few seconds, and she started to feel guilty for how she'd clearly caught him off guard. But then he replied, "I think that perhaps I do."

Now it was Mary's turn to simply sit with the weight of what had just been said. She'd been hoping to hear him say this for so long, and now it didn't quite feel real. "You really think so?"

He laughed a bit. "Well, I hadn't given it much serious thought, but looking back, I do see that I've grown rather…fond of the time we've spent together."

That British gift of understatement was certainly serving them well here, and to avoid a rather undignified squeal Mary quickly took Matthew's face in her hands and kissed him. It was the first time it had happened; they weren't able to do it as part of their cover story due to her veil. And it was everything she'd hoped.

She was pleased to see Matthew also looked quite dazed when she separated again. "I suppose we'll have to let Anna and Mr. Bates know. All of a sudden this old place is just bursting with new love, who'd have thought?" After thinking a second, she said, "Where are they, anyway?"

Matthew visibly made an effort to put his mind back on track. "Oh, yes. They had to run out to head into town and didn't have time to see you. Mr. Bates said he met someone there who might be able to help us, and he wanted her to meet Anna first. Something about impressions, don't ask me what he meant."

Mary grinned, the most genuine one she'd had in a while. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

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Sarah stuck out her hand again when Bates introduced her to Anna, who seemed even more confused but eventually just completed the handshake. "I must say, I'm curious. John here said you'd been through some bad things, but it wasn't his story to tell. I do hope you won't keep me in suspense any longer."

Anna was even more bemused by the use of Bates' first name after she'd only met him once, and the rest also seemed uncomfortably forward. Granted, she didn't really know anything about what she was asking, so Anna supposed she really couldn't be blamed for the discomfort it caused, but hopefully this wasn't a sign of things to come. "Well, I'll just need one thing from you first. We may be asking your help with a little project of ours, and there's a certain risk that comes with it."

Sarah chuckled. "I've spent most of my life fighting for the working class, and on occasion it's gotten me, let's say a stern talking to. So, I'm not too concerned about that. Now, John did tell me you were doing something to get back at those people keeping us in the gutter?"

Bates cleared his throat uncomfortably. "In a manner of speaking. Do you remember the Mary Crawley scandal?"

Sarah looked quite surprised for a second, but quickly smiled. "Homosexuality is a bit off my radar, but I can certainly empathize with anyone oppressed by the patriarchy. The last I can recall hearing about it was when that maid she was sleeping with escaped from prison. Jolly good luck to her, I say."

Anna couldn't resist so perfect an opening. "Well, thank you very much," she said, even batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

Sarah actually jumped out of her seat in shock. "It's really you? I mean, I was fully on your side, of course, and oh dear, I didn't say anything to offend you, did I?"

Anna found she wasn't quite vindictive enough to make the woman squirm anymore. "Seeing as I don't actually have those inclinations, I couldn't say."

Sarah visibly relaxed and sat back down. "So was the whole thing made up, then?"

Anna went into her side of the story, and by the end Sarah was fanning her face. "I'm so sorry for all that. But it just goes to prove what I've always said. People in power will do anything to keep it, and they don't care who gets hurt in the meantime. I'll do whatever I can on your behalf."

Bates now cut in again. "Well, there's something else you should know. Mary Crawley is the one we take our orders from." After filling in the blanks about Mary's survival and return, he concluded, "So, if you were to help us, you would be doing it to help someone from the upper class get back into it. I wanted to be upfront about that in case it would become a problem later."

Sarah didn't react at all for a while, and Bates and Anna didn't dare say anything themselves. Finally she replied, "Well, I certainly thank you for telling me. And I'm sure you understand this puts me in a difficult situation given everything I've always stood for. But from everything you say, it seems that Mary has faced quite her own fair share of troubles, and she knows what it's like to be on the other side."

Anna nodded. "When I met her again, it was like seeing a different person."

Sarah looked to the side before she was able to say, "All right, then. If I don't believe people are capable of changing, then what's the point of any of this? So what do you need me to do?"

Bates said, "Well, you'll need to meet Mary and Matthew. They're the real brains behind this. Though I imagine it will be quite useful to have someone in town rather than always going back and forth ourselves."

As they confirmed the arrangement and said their goodbyes, no one noticed the woman across the street who was keeping a close eye on them.

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 _It had taken some legwork, and no doubt some very confused people after their discussions, but Sybil and Branson had narrowed down the initial source of the story about her to Michael Gregson. After staking out the newspaper office, they had followed him home and knocked on the door. When he answered, he barely had time to register their faces before Branson shoved his way in with Sybil following._

 _She knew she would need to establish the threat level right away, as several incidents during her time as Queen Mab had made clear to hear just how hard it was to get men to take her seriously. So they'd decided to play it as Branson being her muscle, with Gregson left to wonder just what bad news she was if this strong man was following her orders._

" _Don't rough him up too much, darling," she said as she walked in. "We need somewhere to go from here, after all." Branson played his part, simply grunting as he let Gregson go and she shut the door behind her._

" _Who are you people?" Gregson said. Sybil had to give him credit; he was clearly terrified, but was still standing and looking them in the face. "I've been doing everything I'm told!"_

 _That was a surprise, which she tried to keep out of her voice as she continued playing the cool, stoic threat. "Now that's quite an interesting thing to say, but I'm not involved with anyone you might be talking about. But you have been talking about me, and I want to know why. So before this has to go any further, you could just tell me: why did you say Queen Mab was coming to England?"_

 _Gregson's eyes widened, and his mouth worked a few times before he could make anything come out. Finally he stammered, "You mean, it's really you? You're her?"_

 _Sybil grinned and spread her arms. "Expecting someone taller? Trust me, I've heard it all before. But to come back to my question: what exactly are you doing printing lies about me?"_

 _It hadn't taken anything more for Gregson to tell the whole story, about how he'd been blackmailed over his insane wife and just recently another man had picked up the same racket. He'd given a quite thorough description, including the cane he carried._

" _You've been quite helpful. And in a way, you were right. I'm here now, and I'll be staying for a while. I'll be keeping an eye on your office, in case he shows up again. As for what happens after that, just keep my name out of your paper and you should have nothing else to worry about." She leaned closer. "Smile! You're coming out of this a lot better than you might have."_

As it turned out, the wait wasn't long. Sybil and Branson were walking past a café a short time later when she noticed the cane of someone heading in. It seemed to be a match for Gregson's description, and from there she noted the rest of him also fit. She silently pointed him out to Branson, who replied, "What now?"

She gave a rather more genuine smile than the one she's showed Gregson. "Fortune has smiled on us, and now we see where he goes from here. Something very strange is going on, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

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 _A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Up until now I'd been writing the story Vince Gilligan style: I had a clear ending in mind but what happened to get there was just made up as I went. But now that things are really heating up and there's a decent number of subplots going, I figured I'd better take a while to make a more solid plan before I get stuck in a Meereenese Knot. Hopefully things will pick up now that that's done._


	9. Chapter 9

Sybil couldn't believe it when she saw the stop the man and woman were getting off at. "This really is going to be a homecoming for me," she said to Branson as they got off the train themselves. "If we end up at the Abbey, I'm going to start wondering if this is all just fate."

But that wasn't the case, and the two hung out of sight while their targets went into Haxby Park, greeted warmly by another man she didn't recognize. "I never paid much attention to this place, but I'm quite sure that wasn't its owner the last time I was here. I'm sure I'd remember someone so…striking." She grinned playfully at Branson, who rolled his eyes.

"You've been trying that routine for years and it's never once been funny. I probably should have told you before."

Sybil shrugged. "Well, at least we know where to look. It'll be best to go at night; you wouldn't believe how many prying eyes the whole neighborhood has."

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Dinner that night was a rather more festive occasion than usual. Bates and Anna had both lit up at the news that Mary and Matthew were going to make their pretend romance real, though they also made clear that nothing much could happen with it just yet. There was still quite a lot to do with their plan, after all, and for now it would just be a needless distraction.

Anna had looked rather askance at that, and in private said, "I know you don't believe any of that."

Mary had replied, "I never can hide things from you. I'm actually still not quite sure he really does feel the same way, and I've decided this isn't the time to get caught up wondering about that." Anna nodded, and that was the end of it.

A knock came at the door, and Bates quickly got up to answer it. He found a mousy woman who looked quite nervous, her eyes darting around as if worried someone would see her. Bates wasn't one to let such suffering go on, and said, "You'd better come in."

She entered with a grateful look, as Matthew and Anna joined them. Mary entered a few moments later, having fixed her veil. "My name is Daisy; I work in the kitchen at Downton Abbey." After various nods of greeting, she continued, "Today I received some very strange orders from the head butler. He said you're planning something against the Earl and his wife." They all tensed at that, to which she held up her hands. "I'm not going to do anything against you, don't worry! It's been horrible working for those two. They wouldn't even let poor Mrs. Patmore have an operation when her eyes started to go, and she ended up killing herself." At that she began to cry like the pain was completely fresh.

Mary and Anna promptly set comforting hands on Daisy's shoulders. Mary, just barely remembering to keep her accent even as it seemed horribly unsuited to the situation, said, "I've lost a few people I was close to, and I'm sorry to say it never quite goes away. But it can help to know the people responsible have paid for it. And I can't go into many details, but I believe we're after the same thing there."

Daisy blinked her last few tears away, and her eyes suddenly grew shockingly hard. "I was hoping you'd say that. And Mr. Barrow is another ally you have at the Abbey, though I hope you can understand I won't be telling you why."

Matthew nodded. "After asking you to take such a thing on faith, how could we refuse to do the same? Now, what is it you came to tell us?"

"The earl has emptied his bank accounts because he's afraid Queen Mab would attack and wipe them out, which I gather is your doing. Then the Countess' maid got her to open up about how he'd put it somewhere in Downton Place. I'm sorry to say I can't tell you exactly where, all the Countess herself knows is it's somewhere he used to hide things as a boy."

That maid would be Mrs. O'Brien, Mary figured, though she couldn't say so without giving away her cover, which she wasn't quite comfortable doing yet. "And you're sure we can trust this maid?"

Daisy nodded. "She's got quite a mean streak to her, but she was completely devoted to the old Countess, and has never quite warmed to the current one. I wouldn't trust her with much, but on this I do."

Matthew smiled. "That's the kind of thing I can believe much more than a sterling recommendation. We thank you very much, and we hope to continue helping you if this all goes well."

Daisy smiled back for the first time, and the effect on her face was tremendous. "I suppose I'll take my leave, then. I'd better get back before people start wondering about me." But before she could even turn around, there came another knock at the door.

Daisy looked at them with sudden panic, and Mary quickly said, "Don't worry, just go into the sitting room just down there. Whoever it is, this shouldn't take long."

She led the way as Bates went to answer the door again. But no sooner had Daisy disappeared into the room than the sounds of a struggle came down the hall. Mary turned back and raced toward the others as a strange man shoved Bates against the wall. However, before she even got there, Anna had pulled a knife out of her sleeve and pointed it hair-raisingly close to the intruder's throat. "Just try it again," she snarled as Mary reached them.

Mary opened her mouth to demand what was going on, but the words died in her throat when she saw the woman now coming in the door to her partner's aid. As hard as maintaining her cover had been while talking to Daisy, this time there wasn't any question of it. She simply cried out in her natural voice, _"Sybil?"_

Her sister's already shocked face turned to her in confusion. Mary realized it was already too late, so she might as well just drop all pretense and pulled off her veil. Sybil gasped and backed away a couple steps, completely at a loss for words.

Mary stepped toward her, worried she might faint. "There's a lot to explain, Sybil, and I promise I'll tell you all of it. You're one of the few people I feel I can completely trust. But it really is me."

Matthew cut in, "Wait, Sybil? Your sister Sybil?"

Branson piped back up after Anna lowered the knife in her own surprise. "That's right, and who are all of you? Because you've got a lot of explaining to do about making a reporter say she was coming to England."

At this, everyone's eyes snapped right to Sybil. Mary pointed an accusing finger. "You mean…you're Queen Mab?"

Sybil couldn't meet her gaze. "It's not the way I would have chosen to meet you again. I've done a lot of hard things, but I do believe they were necessary. If you could only see the way they're treated in Ireland…"

Now Anna interrupted. "I have to point out we're all overlooking one pretty big piece of the situation: who exactly is this fellow?" She glared at Branson, though for now she kept her knife at her side.

Sybil laughed a bit. "You let your staff talk that way, Mary? I'm actually quite proud. And to answer that, this is Tom Branson. We met in Ireland after Patrick had me shipped off there."

Mary scowled. "He said something about that, yes. So I imagine you want to get back at him, too?"

Sybil gave a nasty smile. "Absolutely. But first I still want to know how you're alive, and where you've been! And who is this fellow, anyway?" She gestured to a quite bemused Bates, who'd known to stay well out of the conversation for now.

"Mr. Bates fought with Papa in the war, and he's been helping us. We never would have gotten this far without him." Mary then broke into a laugh. "Something just occurred to me. I've been calling myself Aine, after I read that someone calling herself Queen Mab was making trouble in Ireland. We really can't get too far away from each other, can we?"

They all had a good laugh at that, but it was interrupted by another knock at the door. "Well, aren't we the popular ones tonight," said Mary. "Sybil, you and Mr. Branson should head into the sitting room. There's someone else already in there, but she shouldn't be any trouble once you introduce yourselves. Bates?"

"Ah yes, madam, by all means let me do my only job here," Bates said, still in good humor. His smile faded when he saw who was at the door, however.

"Inspector Vyner, at your service. And as luck would have it, you're one of the people I was hoping to see, Mr. Bates."

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 _A/N: And here we have one of my favorite storytelling tools, the narrative collapse, where a whole bunch of plot threads all crash into each other and become one. Hopefully I pulled it off decently enough, and I'm well aware it's a big coincidence, but hey, you can't accuse me of not being true to the show's own storytelling style. I also apologize to anyone who was hoping for some kind of initial fight between Mary and Sybil, but I find the whole "two heroes fight because they don't know they're on the same side" thing to be horribly played out so I just went with the brief taste of Anna getting into it._

 _And now, given how this story exists because of Mr. Chaos generously tossing out his plot bunnies for anyone to pick up, I'll pay it forward with one of my own._

 _The show's first few episodes have gone as normal, and Matthew is just starting to get used to Molesley dressing him. But one morning, out of nowhere the valet whips his tie tight around his throat and starts choking him. Matthew desperately fights his way free, but Molesley doesn't seem phased by his attacks and he's forced to flee the room. As he runs, he hears the man say a strange phrase: "These violent delights have violent ends."_

 _Yes, this is a crossover with Westworld, where Grantham is one of Delos' parks based on Edwardian England, and Matthew is a visitor playing out what should have been a light, non-dangerous storyline of becoming the heir of an estate. But the host rebellion has now spread this far, and he's thrown into more danger than he ever wanted and now has to fight for his survival as every host turns on the guests with murderous intent._

 _A big part of the fun would come from exactly who's human or not (I could definitely see the horrible bullying from Thomas and O'Brien being guests using their impunity to push the others around, even if being one of the staff wouldn't seem nearly as appealing to most people), and seeing disparate characters from the show having to work together, as this genteel soap opera is suddenly turned into a violent robot war._


	10. Chapter 10

Daisy didn't even try to pretend she hadn't been listening at the sitting room's keyhole when Sybil and Tom came in. This was clearly a house of secrets coming out, so why bother trying to hide her own far lesser ones? She automatically curtsied to her one-time employer. "I don't imagine you remember me, Miss Sybil, I hadn't been at the abbey long at the time you…went away."

Sybil blushed. "Actually, you were trying so hard not to be noticed that it just made you all the more interesting to someone who'd just started taking a look at the issues of the lower class."

Behind them, Anna started with, "Well, we'll all have time to catch up later, so-" before cutting off with what looked like a gasp, except she was clearly forcing no sound to come out. She rushed ahead into the room herself and quietly closed the door, and whispered "It's the police!"

Daisy was surprised to find Sybil and Tom didn't seem that worried. In fact, it was Anna who was displaying much more fear, to a level that didn't seem like it just came from a general concern for what the police's arrival could mean. Daisy resolved to find out more about this, but for now knew to keep her mouth shut and hope Mary, Matthew, and Bates could deal with the situation.

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Bates recovered from the surprise of the inspector's statement quite quickly; spending your whole adult life in some kind of danger tended to either increase your ability to keep your head or kill you. "Not the first time I've heard that from someone in your profession, I'm afraid," he said. There didn't seem to be much point in trying to hide that much if they knew enough to track him down here.

Vyner also wasn't thrown a bit, seeming to have anticipated that response. "And now you've gone straight, I suppose?"

Bates looked back at Matthew and Mary, seeing that Mary had hastily put down her veil. "The count and countess were good enough to give me a job despite my past. Now it's just up to me to repay that trust."

Matthew gave a discreet cough. "And now if you don't mind, inspector, why exactly do you want to speak to my man?"

"Ah, yes. It has to do with your wife, Mr. Bates. She's been murdered."

It was quite a tricky thing to manage, trying to act surprised and with some level of grief, but not too much given their animosity that Vyner would likely know about. Just in case, he put a hand over his mouth and said, "She was always destined for a bad end."

Vyner stifled a grin. "You realize how something like that would sound in court?"

Bates didn't bother hiding his own smile; they both knew the game well. "It's only the truth. She hated me, and didn't do much to endear my own feelings in return. Everyone in the area knows it, so I might as well just say it now."

Matthew cut in: "If you're going to be arresting my employee, I hope you have some evidence beyond this speculation."

Vyner turned to him with an acidic look. "It's a slow process when it's done properly. I'm not going to be arresting anyone tonight; this is just a visit to let you know the situation. And now that's it's done, I'll leave you be. Good night."

After Bates closed the door, they went back to get the others. "Everything's fine for now," said Mary, knowing exactly what their first question would be. "We may need some more help, though, I'm afraid." They quickly went through the situation.

Bates said, "I'm sure Miss Bunting would be glad to keep us filled in on what's happening in town. There's no love lost between her and any kind of authority."

Daisy picked it up with, "And I'd best be off back to the Abbey. Thomas is a cunning fellow, maybe he'll be able to do something."

Sybil looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm afraid I can't offer much on this one. Blowing some place up probably won't help much."

Everyone had a bit of a laugh at that. Mary replied, "Don't you worry about that. Your fight here is with Patrick and Edith, and you'll definitely have something to do with that one. We'll just need time to figure out what it is."

That got a distinctly keen grin from both her and Tom. The latter said, "I've heard so much about those two. Just get me in a room with them and I could end the whole thing for you tonight."

Mary shook her head. "Maybe back when it happened I would have taken you up on that. But we've spent years on our own ideas, and we're so close now to pulling the whole thing off. This business with the police is a complication, but I have complete faith we can beat it if we do our best."

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Vyner shook his head as he departed. The upper class usually had some quirks to them, but these people seemed a whole extra level of strange. They were clearly hiding something, and the trouble was just figuring out if it had anything to do with his case.

But there was one thing that nagged at him above all the other questions he suddenly had. They probably didn't think he'd even noticed, but he'd spent enough time on the job talking to these kinds of people to know that the lady of the house always had her own personal maid who typically followed her mistress at all times. And yet, there wasn't one anywhere to be seen with the countess right there. He would have to follow up on that.

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Thomas was amused to see Daisy sneaking through the servants' entrance so furtively. It wasn't like Patrick and Edith would be keeping an eye on that particular area, though he supposed he couldn't blame her for being so nervous. He'd been in the middle of these sorts of games for so long he had a hard time remembering what it was like at the start.

"Hopefully they got the message," he said, "because we're all going to be quite busy around here. Edith wants all the stops pulled out for her cousin Rose's arrival, and there'll be rather less time for larceny. Tonight may be the last time for a while we have any contact with them."

Daisy was panting a bit, but after a few seconds calmed down enough to say, "I told them everything, just like you said. And then things got a bit more complicated."

Thomas couldn't believe the story she laid out about the return of Lady Sybil, and the police inspector's arrival. "Well, Lady Sybil always did look out for us down here, so that's good news as far as it goes."

"But what about Anna? If this inspector was able to come this far…"

Thomas shrugged. "The one thing that comes immediately to mind is pinning the whole thing on someone else. It's easier than you might think; O'Brien was quite a good teacher."

Daisy shook her head. "I don't think I could do that. Making things right for Lady Mary is one thing, but I don't want anyone innocent to get hurt."

"Yes, I was afraid you'd say that. And besides, first we'd have to pick the person out, and right now no one really seems like an ideal candidate to go so far out of their way to kill a crime lord. And she probably left behind some evidence that would point to a woman, too."

That was when O'Brien walked in. "Oh good, you're finally back. And don't try to tell me you did it as fast as you could, I know how long the trip takes."

Daisy dropped her eyes to the floor. "My apologies, it won't happen again."

O'Brien tsked. "I'm not the one you need to be saying it to. Come along and let's see if you're still got a job."

Thomas winced as the two women left. He didn't think O'Brien had any idea what he was up to, but that had been too close for comfort, and if something like it happened again she was smart enough to start wondering about it. He would have to be much more careful.

He also shuddered as he thought of the one thing he hadn't told Daisy: there was one good candidate to take the fall with the police, but he couldn't bring himself to consider it as a real possibility yet. But if the situation grew desperate enough, he might have to do it.

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 _A/N: Sorry to give you such a short chapter after you've been waiting so long (holy crap has it been a busy time in my life lately) but it just felt like what happens here is all that was necessary, and adding anything else would be cutting into what the next chapter should be about. I've also always hated when you can tell writers are artificially padding things out because they don't want something to be awkwardly short, and I'd much rather just plow through it and move on to the next one. And I do have much more room in my schedule now, so you hopefully shouldn't have to put up with any more of these long delays._


	11. Chapter 11

Sybil and Tom didn't say a word while Mary and Matthew explained the situation to them. It was clear that Sybil at least wanted to interject several times, but she thankfully realized she should just wait to hear the whole thing before making the whole process more complicated that it needed to be. Once it was finished, she simply said, "So, you're doing all this because of an old book?"

It was so unexpected that everyone collapsed into giggles for a few seconds. Mary then replied, "Oh, I definitely would have wanted to do something about all this no matter what. But I guess what Mama told us during all those reading lessons was true; books can open your mind like nothing else. And some of the ideas Mousier Dumas came up with were quite…inspiring."

Matthew cut in, "And we're so close to pulling it off, if this damn business with Vera Bates doesn't send it off the rails. Patrick has pulled all his money out of the bank and hid it in some house around here."

Sybil smiled. "Well, I suppose I am grateful to have already had some part in making things right, however unintentionally. So what's the next move?"

Mary looked her in the eye with a quite serious expression. "I've actually been giving that some thought since you arrived. We intended to take the money ourselves and just let the two of them wriggle with no idea what happened to it. But now I'm thinking it might be better if we let them think it was all burned to ashes." Her mouth curled into a vicious grin. "What do you say, Queen Mab? Are you up for a new assignment on your own territory?"

Sybil turned to Tom. "What do you say?"

Tom turned the grin right back on them. "After all this time hearing about what happened to Sybil and everyone else, and not being able to do anything about it, this is like a dream come true. So, where is the place?"

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Thomas was quite unimpressed at the sight of Lady Rose Aldridge as she entered the abbey, and did his best to tamp the feeling down, something he'd gotten quite skilled at over the years. At the very least, her own brand of bubbleheaded excitement should prove even more annoying to Patrick and Edith than it was to him, which should provide a good deal of amusement. Whether that would make up for all the extra work the staff had been putting in to prepare for her arrival remained to be seen.

"Well, Papa told me how big the place was of course, but I just can't believe people actually live in a place like this!" Her back was turned to Thomas as she gazed around the foyer, and he took the opportunity to get his eye rolling out of his system before it could leap out at an inopportune time.

He tried to get things moving along with, "If you'll come this way, my lady…" and pointed her toward the library where Patrick and Edith were waiting. Upon closing the door he was quite torn between relief at Rose now being someone else's problem, or regret that he couldn't see the looks that came over Patrick and Edith's faces as they realized the kind of person they'd have to be dealing with for the next couple weeks.

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Sybil's stomach was in knots as she rang the bell at Crawley House. It had been so long since she'd seen her parents, but after being assured by Mary that they'd had no part in Patrick and Edith's scheme, she eagerly embraced her new part in the plan that relied on seeing them again. How happy they would be with her after her life of the past several years was a whole other story.

As the door opened, her heart melted at the familiar sight of Carson, a bit more creased around the eyes but still radiating his usual stolid reliability. Carson himself seemed close to fainting upon seeing her, and she quickly took his hand in both of hers. The contact, as improper as it usually was between employer and butler (not that Sybil had ever much cared about that sort of thing) seemed to do them both good as she felt her heart calming.

"Miss Sybil, can it really be you?" he whispered.

She nodded, feeling tears start to come. She struggled to contain them, as it certainly wouldn't do to have her first meeting with her parents in years start with her already crying. "I have quite a story to tell, if you'll take me to Mama and Papa. And yourself and Mrs. Hughes should be there too; you all deserve to know just what's been going on."

Carson ushered her into the sitting room, where Sybil nearly fainted herself at the sight of her mother and father. They looked up, and all simply stared uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. Then Carson cleared his throat, clearly knowing it would break the spell, and Sybil raced into the room to embrace both of them.

"I'm back, I'm really here, and it's so good to see you again!" she murmured into their shoulders. Then she stepped back and looked them in the eyes. "And there's so much we need to talk about." She turned back to see Carson had brought Mrs. Hughes into the room, and after their own emotional reunion, she maneuvered herself to be able to look at them all. "And I apologize for how flippantly this may come off, but I have to start with it: Mary is alive."

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Sybil imagined she now had some idea of how her sister had felt filling her in on the whole story, and her parents were not nearly as patient as she had been. She supposed she couldn't blame them, as they still had yet to actually see Mary in the flesh. Though she did notice her father seemed rather less affected than she was expecting. "Papa, what is it?"

Robert sighed. "I suppose I'd better come clean myself. I've suspected for some time that Mary was back." After the gasps all around, he turned to Cora and said, "That letter we got, it was Mary, I'm sure of it now. I thought I recognized her handwriting, but I just couldn't be sure enough to raise your hopes when they could just be dashed again."

A hundred emotions seemed to cross Cora's face in the space of the next several seconds, after which she visibly pulled herself back and said, "We are going to talk about this later, but for right now there's something more important." She turned back to Sybil and said, "What exactly are we supposed to do now?"

Sybil breathed a sigh of relief. "We know where Patrick has hidden all the family money, in a secret spot in Downton Place. But Mary and I can't be the ones to get it; I'm supposed to be in Ireland and she's pretending to be someone unconnected to the family. It has to be you two."

Robert said, "It shouldn't be too hard. Is that really all?"

Sybil gazed down at the floor, unable to meet their eyes before the next part. "And you'll have to get in and out quickly, because I'm going to blow it up."

In the stunned silence that followed, it ended up being Mrs. Hughes who broke the ice. "I'm sure I didn't hear that correctly."

Sybil still couldn't look at anyone. "You've probably heard about Queen Mab in Ireland. That's me." When there was still no reply, she went on, "I saw firsthand how horribly the Irish are treated by people like us, and I had to do my part to help."

Robert cleared his throat to get her attention, and she was unsurprised to see the angry look on his face. "And you thought the best thing to do was become a terrorist?"

The tears she'd been stifling finally came out. "I was careful never to actually hurt anyone. I only destroyed things, and anyone rich enough to have a place over there can replace them. Hopefully back here where they wouldn't be hurting the Irish anymore."

Cora didn't seem quite as angry as her husband, but the coldness in her eyes felt even worse. "And did you ever consider that you might kill someone by accident? What if there was someone in one of those houses you didn't know about?"

"I did, actually. And maybe if things had been different I wouldn't have gone down that path, but after everything I'd been through, I convinced myself it was worth the risk." She forced herself to meet her father's gaze. "You were in a war, Papa. You can't tell me there weren't times when you were at least tempted to take the same risk."

The anger didn't go out completely, but a level of contrition was added that immediately made Sybil feel guilty. "You're right, I can't tell you that. And maybe that means I lost the right to criticize you over this. Whatever it means, we have the rest of our lives to work it out, and if we keep going down this road we'll never get done what needs to happen. So just tell us where to look, and we'll do it. But just know this conversation isn't over."

This got Sybil to look up at everyone again, knowing this was the best she was going to get. "All right. First you need to know where to plant the bombs…"

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Edith had long since given up trying to stop her cousin from yammering on about any little thing that popped into her head. The best she could do was hope it reached a level of white noise that allowed her to tune it out. From the looks he'd been giving her, Patrick seemed to have made the same decision.

"Cousin Edith, did you hear me?" Drat, it seemed Rose had just been saying something she should have been paying attention to. Luckily, Patrick turned out to not have been as successful in blocking her out and jumped in. "Of course. You go on into town, have a great time. After all, you don't want to be stuck in this old place the whole time you're here."

If he'd sounded a bit too eager to get her away, Rose didn't seem to notice. "Oh, thank you so much! I promise I won't be out too late."

 _I can only hope,_ Edith thought to herself.

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Robert and Cora were distinctly uneasy as they entered Downton Place, both with an arm on the suitcase where they would be putting the family money, which was also intended to serve as their cover story of wanting to bring over some knick-knacks to their own home, though it hadn't been necessary as no one had met them on the way. Neither had wanted to carry it alone, as it made them feel too much like the only one responsible for what was about to happen. The building's loss wouldn't be too big a blow, as neither had ever been very fond of it, but carrying their own degree of complicity was something neither had been prepared for at all. Still, such a betrayal by their own daughter demanded they play their part to put things right, and so they were now getting on with their part with a minimum of fuss.

Sybil's instructions had been very clear, having hidden a few baubles away during her childhood in this same spot that all of that generation seemed to have known about. The second bedroom, five boards from the rear wall, and the loose floorboard came right up. And there, as promised, was a startling treasure trove of cash, the family's whole fortune summed up as liquid assets. Robert couldn't imagine how Patrick had actually gotten it all here.

"Are we really doing this?" Cora asked.

"I can't quite believe it either. But if this is the way we can make good the wounds that tore this family apart, I'm willing to take it on." Robert opened the suitcase, which on their way in contained the explosives Sybil had prepared.

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Rose still couldn't believe how easy it had been for Cousin Edith and her husband to let her go to this party. True, she's fibbed a bit about just how debauched she was planning to be, but her mother would have never let her step a foot out the door for anything resembling having a good time. Her smile grew wider as she thought of the look that would appear on the Marchioness' face if she walked into this place with the beer and wine flowing, and many of the dancers getting quite a bit closer than anyone in high society would even get in the bedroom most nights.

The fellow next to her had been chatting about the films that had come out over the last year, amazed that she hadn't seen any of them. Rather than let on that she was a poor little rich girl who wasn't allowed any culture, which didn't seem likely to stir his sympathies, she'd said she was a maid whose employers disapproved of the industry. They had a date to see Charlie Chaplin in a couple days, but for now her thoughts were quite a bit baser.

"Listen, I know a secret way in to one of these houses. There'll be no one around, and we can do whatever we want." She put on her most amorous look and added. "By which I mean, you can do whatever you want."

The man was quite amusingly put off his game, and she guessed he typically had to work quite a bit harder for this sort of thing. But he didn't take long to get back in the game, and said "This place is dying anyway, wouldn't you say?"

Rose saw nothing of the sort. But she supposed she'd taken in enough for one night. She'd better pace herself or she'd never get through this trip, and she guessed the next experience would definitely be an upgrade.

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Robert and Cora met Sybil at the closest she dared come to the house, with it just barely in sight. "You placed them all like I told you?"

"For a couple complete amateurs at this, I think you'll be quite impressed." A bit of the twinkle she remembered came back into her father's eye as he said it, but he quickly grew morose again as the true weight of the situation settled on them all.

Sybil sighed. "I arranged for a good bit more time than I usually would so you'd be sure to get out. But given how far you had to travel, it shouldn't be long now."

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Rose and her date (she realized she still didn't know his name; well, plenty of time for that after what she came here for) barely waited after sneaking into the old house to start ripping each other's clothes off. In her experience it was a rare thing to be so completely on the same page with someone else about what you wanted, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

But she didn't get the chance, or get to do anything else ever again, because that's when the bombs went off.

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 _A/N: I actually got a message during the latest drought of updates on this story asking if I'd abandoned it, and I assured them I'd be getting back to it soon. I hope you're happy now!_

 _And because we've now hit such a big turning point, I'll indulge a bit in inviting you all behind the curtain of the writing process (I'm actually a professional writer, with my first novel being published this November, so this is the kind of stuff I spend a lot of time thinking about). I knew from the start that Mary and Matthew's plan would have to have some major, borderline unforgiveable collateral damage, but it wasn't until I took that break to iron out just where the story was going I talked about before that I settled on poor Rose being the best choice for that role._

 _I wanted it to be someone with a fairly major role in the actual Downton series even if they wouldn't get much of an actual presence in this story, and also be someone the fans largely liked so their death would have a real impact. And with those in mind, I suddenly hit on Rose's canonical slumming and pretending to be a maid to get a date putting her in the ideal spot to accidentally be in the explosion site. Plus, this being a Rose before any character development allowed me to make it sting even more by playing all her scenes for laughs until the reader hopefully starts to realize where this is going, and it becomes one of those cases of hoping against hope it's not what you think, but knowing the whole time it probably is and just having to watch the train head toward the inevitable crash._

 _This also illustrates the advantages that come from this kind of planning ahead, as I was able to put in a couple mentions of Rose's impending visit in earlier chapters, which possibly hit the reader just on a subconscious level until she actually arrives here. But they're in there, and this absolutely does not come out of nowhere, one of the things that most annoys me when I come across it in any story._

 _And now, to spin out how things can get even worse from here…_


	12. Chapter 12

Matthew, Mary, Bates, and Anna all sat silently on the front porch. As luck would have it, they were perfectly positioned here to see the destruction of Downton Place off in the distance. Matthew had lost count of the number of times he'd checked his fob watch; he'd gained a whole new appreciation for the aphorism "A watched pot never boils."

But then, the wait was over. At first it was just a glow beyond the hills, with perhaps a hint of the fireball itself raising over the horizon. A second later, the sound of the explosion reached them, even at such a remove sounding worse than the closest lightning strike he'd ever heard. All four flinched, before gazing in awe as the glow intensified. Sybil had assured them the fire wouldn't spread if the charges were planted properly, but actually seeing it caused Matthew to worry all over again.

At least Mary was there to provide an emotional rock. If she was feeling any of the same things he was, her face certainly didn't show it. And then she noticed his glancing at her and turned with a smile he knew was completely genuine, having grown so used to telling the difference these past few years. And before he quite knew what was happening, they were kissing.

Matthew had quite lost track of time when they parted, and he looked over in embarrassment at Bates and Anna. It was the latter who spoke first: "Well, it's about time."

Mary playfully gasped. "I beg your pardon?"

Bates chuckled. "It's a good thing we never actually got around to laying money down on it. I would have just lost."

Matthew replied, "Well, as long as we're all feeling so good about ourselves, may I turn everyone's attention back to the giant fireball currently threatening the whole area?"

Mary chuffed his shoulder. "I trust Sybil completely. She may have changed quite a bit since I last saw her, but she'd never be so reckless with this place. At the very least, you can trust she'd want to protect the tenants."

No more really needed to be said, on either subject. And when both couples made love that night, it was with the full satisfaction of a job well done.

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The entire household was up bright and early to get the news on their accomplishment as soon as possible. Matthew was the one who ended up getting it, but Mary then watched as he seemed to become frozen on the spot. He didn't even seem to be breathing. Finally the others couldn't take the suspense anymore and crowded around to read it for themselves, and saw the headline:

TWO DIE IN MYSTERIOUS EXPLOSION

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Patrick and Edith had already been fast asleep by the time the bombs went off, and it was only when they picked up the paper themselves that they learned what had happened. Edith simply continued staring at the article in shock, while Patrick swiped his whole breakfast set off the table in a rage.

"We're ruined! You understand, completely ruined! They got in my head, all that talk about our money not being safe in the bank, and look at us now!"

"Patrick…" Edith started to say, but was quickly cut off.

"They must have done it deliberately. There's no way this happened by a coincidence! That count and his wife with the crazy name, what do we even know about them anyway? Well, they'll pay for this. Somehow I'll make them pay!"

"Patrick, I really think…"

This time she was interrupted by her husband ringing the servant's bell. And there wasn't any time to start again before he was off. "They must be after the Abbey themselves. They want to take over the whole place. Well, it's mine by right! You know more than anyone all I did to earn this place, and…"

That was when Edith finally had enough, and slapped him across the face. He turned to her in a rage, clearly about to return the favor, when she stuck the article right up to his eyes. "Look at the picture, damn you!"

The article about the two bodies found in the wreckage of Downton Place didn't contain any names, as they were burned too badly for any recognition beyond being a man and a woman. However, a necklace the woman was wearing had survived relatively intact, and a picture was included in the hope that someone would recognize it. And Edith certainly had; the gaudy thing had annoyed her even before Rose started talking.

Luckily for her sanity, recognition soon dawned in Patrick's eyes as well. "It was ROSE?" he squealed, just as Thomas arrived in response to the bell.

"What was Rose, sir?" he asked.

Edith wordlessly shoved the paper into his hands, in no mood to explain any of this again. "The poor girl was killed while we were supposed to be watching her," she murmured. "Her parents will want us hanged from the highest gibbet, and I'm not sure they'd be wrong."

Patrick grabbed her shoulders roughly. "Can't you see that doesn't matter now? All our money is gone! We can't pay our tenants, or even our own staff! Unless you plan to be the maid of the person who buys this place out from under us, we need a way to fix this!"

Edith had some difficulty breaking her husband's grip, but she managed it at last. "Well, I'm wide open to ideas."

In the middle of their argument, neither of them noticed that Thomas was long gone, having heard everything he knew Mary and her compatriots would need to hear.

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Ever since seeing the article, Cora had been sitting in her chair staring blankly ahead, only the occasional tremor in her hands showing there was still life in her. Robert could imagine what was going through her mind. There had been a time when he was completely new to the idea that a human life had ended because of something his own hands had done, and it had taken him quite a while to be able to function afterwards. And with his wife being so much more delicate to start with, he shuddered to think how this was affecting her, and wondered if he would ever see that spark of life in her eyes again.

He mentally cursed Sybil. He didn't dare do it out loud, as there was no telling how that would affect Cora. Despite what her orders had wrought, she was still their daughter, and Cora might well still be driven to defend her no matter what. What he feared perhaps most of all was what would happen the next time they saw each other, as he honestly didn't know if he could resist the urge to beat her.

Carson stepped into the room. Mrs. Hughes had fainted dead away upon getting the news, and he'd been tending to her upstairs. "I believe the worst is over," the butler said quietly. "She's resting comfortably, and should wake in due time."

They stepped out into the hall. "Well, that's something, at least," Robert said, only making the barest effort to hide the bitterness in his voice. "What do any of us do from here, knowing what we do? We're all responsible, us who placed the damn things, and everyone who planned it, including our daughters. The whole family damned."

Carson put his hand on Robert's shoulder, neither of them acknowledging the impropriety in the emotion of the moment. "I've watched this family for a long time. I've grown to love you all. And you may not believe it right now, but I will tell you that you were not at fault. And neither was Sybil, or Mary, or especially Rose. Something I've grown to understand is that sometimes people's actions can combine to tragic ends, which no one intended, and it does none of them any good to try to assess the blame afterward. It is equally everyone and no one."

Robert looked the man straight in the eye, and he looked right back. "I thank you for your words. Perhaps I'll believe them tomorrow."

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Mary, Matthew, Bates, and Anna had all gathered together to hear Thomas' news of just who had been killed in the explosion. Mary tried to sit down, but missed the chair and simply didn't move from the spot where she'd fallen on the floor. "I met her just once. We weren't even ten years old."

Matthew quickly knelt down beside her. He started to open his mouth, but then realized he didn't actually have anything to say and just hugged her. She made no move to return it.

It was Anna who broke the motionless tableau, as she abruptly walked to the silverware drawer and pulled out a whole handful of knives. "This has gone on long enough. I should have done this from the start, and because I didn't all this is happening now. Well, no more of that. They're both dying today."


	13. Chapter 13

Mary, Matthew, Bates, and Thomas all leaped to block Anna's path. "Anna, what do you think you're doing?" Mary asked.

Her one-time servant looked at her with the hardest eyes she'd ever seen. "You know it's the right thing to do. You've probably always known. But no, you had to try and be clever, because of some hundred year old story. Well, I'm putting a stop to all that, so get out of my way."

Matthew stepped forward and grabbed her arm roughly. "I don't want to hurt you, Anna, but I will if I have to."

Anna matched his glare. "You really do mean it, don't you? But as I recall, you've got no real stake in this, do you? Patrick and Edith did nothing to you, and you're only part of this because you're the idea man." She tried to pull her arm loose, but it wouldn't budge.

Matthew put his other hand on her shoulder, and forced her back a step. Her legs hit a chair, and she was forced to sit. "They hurt Mary. And if you want me to have a stake, that's it. They hurt the woman I love."

That almost made her drop the knife, and Matthew himself even looked a bit shocked that he'd said it. Mary walked up behind him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

Anna continued her defiant gaze. "They hurt me worse. How long was it before your Grandmama and all her riches took you in? Less time than I spent in prison, I know that much. And the things that happened to me, the things I was forced to do…well, look at me right now. If I don't have the right, who does?"

Now Bates finally stepped up and leveled a stern look at his lover. "No one. Not like this. I'm a criminal, I won't deny it, but I can at least pride myself that I don't stoop so low as what you're doing. I love you, but if you do this, I can't be with you any longer. I hope that'll get through to you, if nothing else does."

Tears began to leak from Anna's eyes. "So that's it, then? You're all standing against me?"

Matthew bent down so their faces were level, still keeping his grip on her hand. "Please don't think of it that way. Just-"

But that was the moment when Anna balled up her other hand and struck him directly in the eye. He cried out and lost his grip on her, and she shot up and brandished the knife at everyone, causing them to all take a couple steps back while Matthew remained moaning on the floor. "I'm going now. If anyone tries to stop me, I'm sure you know what will happen."

None of them spoke any further. They all seemed to agree they'd done their best to get through to her, and there was nothing more to say. But when she opened the door, she was quite surprised to see Inspector Vyner just about to ring the bell.

The policeman looked at her triumphantly. "Well, this is an auspicious moment. I've been quite looking forward to meeting you, my dear." His eyes dropped to the knife in her hand. "I'd suggest you put that down before you make things worse for yourself."

Anna's entire posture slumped, and she dropped the knife to the floor. As much as she'd been hardened by her time in prison, it seemed the presence of a law officer still held power over her. Then Vyner took a closer look at her hand, and the bandage on it. "You've hurt one of your fingers, I see. Would you mind if I asked how?"

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Anna hadn't said a word as Vyner escorted her out of the house, and the others could hardly raise much of a fuss to stop him with their own precarious legal positions. But as soon as he left, Matthew, still rubbing his eye, said, "What do we do now?"

Thomas cleared his throat. "As it happens, I've been working on an idea for this situation. We all knew it might happen, after all. Unfortunately, it involves a rather painful action on my part, so I've been putting it off and hoping I wouldn't have to go through that for nothing, so now we'll have to wait a couple weeks at least before I can do it."

Mary looked him straight in the eyes. "Whatever you're talking about, that isn't an option. The poor woman spent years in prison because of my cousin getting back at me, and I won't let her go through any more on my behalf. I'd imagine that even now the mere thought of going back to that is killing her inside."

Now Bates spoke up. "And I certainly won't let her spend any more time there either. I know what it's like. So the question remains, what do we do?"

At that moment, the door opened and Sybil and Branson let themselves in. "So a job well done, I'd say," said Sybil cheerfully.

Everyone glared daggers at them.

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Branson, having just the barest acquaintance with any of the people involved, couldn't be very emotionally invested as Mary laid out the terrible price of what they had done the previous night. Sybil, on the other hand, quickly collapsed onto the floor and barely held on to consciousness. It was a while before she could stop crying enough to speak coherently.

"Papa and Mama. How will they ever be able to look at me again?"

Mary was brought up short, as this was a new wrinkle she hadn't been able to consider, so wrapped up in what had happened to Rose and then Anna. "I wish I could tell you."

After a few more seconds of obvious straining to force the tears back, Sybil got back up. "I'll think about that later. You say that Anna's been arrested?" At everyone's nods she went on, "And it just happened. That means there's time."

Branson walked up to her. "Now hold on. We've done our part, haven't we?"

Sybil glared at him. "This is my family. Staff is included in that. And I may not be able to fix much of the mess I've made here, but this is something I can do. You can help or not."

He sighed. "I never have been able to say no to you. So what's the plan?"

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"You can save us both a lot of trouble if you just tell me the whole story now," said Vyner.

Anna continued to sulk silently in the car's back seat. She rarely went out these days without a knife up her sleeve, but the news about Rose had shaken her so much that she'd forgotten and only had the one the detective had spotted. Stupid. And now she would be paying for it the rest of her life.

Vyner went on, "We'll get it out of you, you know. We've pieced together a lot about how it went down, and that missing fingernail of yours is a big piece of it. There's no way you're getting out of this, and you have to know that, so I'd say you're protecting someone else. Was it over some man you both had your eye on, perhaps?"

Anna did her best not to give any sign of how close he'd gotten. But she didn't get to see how successful she was, as ahead of them there appeared two masked and cloaked figures leaning against a car that was blocking the entire road.

Vyner slammed on the brakes. "Well, this is a new one for me." Anna noted with some satisfaction that from his tone, he was clearly struggling to not let his own shock show. "There's nowhere to run to now, so don't be getting any ideas. I'm going to see what this is about, and I'll be right back."

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Sybil had debated whether to bring their outfits along to England. They came in quite handy for concealing the group's identities and providing a symbol for the people to rally behind and the oppressors to fear, but it was those very aspects that also made it a risk if some crew member discovered it on their way over. But she'd ultimately decided that she was taking a risk either way so she might as well be prepared, and she was quite glad of that decision now.

The downside is that while the components for the explosives she'd brought could be packaged separately so each one wouldn't arouse suspicion, there was no chance of doing it with guns, which would have come in handy in this situation. As a result, she'd had to improvise a bit.

As Vyner approached, she held her hand out. "That's far enough. Take one more step forward and my associate will be quite happy to relieve you of your head." She was quite proud of the Irish accent she'd developed. Branson naturally said it still needed some work, but for someone like this who'd probably never heard a real one in his life it should do quite well.

Branson wasn't actually holding a gun, of course. But the heavy cloak did quite a good job of disguising the bedpost they'd hastily chopped off, with its shape creating a quite convincing impression of a rifle. Their typical approach to these confrontations was for him to not say a word, and let his larger frame do the job of intimidating the target while Sybil put on a threatening contralto that put them on edge even more.

Vyner put his hands up in surrender, with a scowl on his face. "All right, I won't move. But I've got to get down this road, so just tell me what you want and let's get this over with."

Sybil barked out a laugh. "It's simple. We want that woman you're taking."

Vyner stared steadily at her. "I'm a policeman doing his duty, and this woman is under strong suspicion of having committed a murder. And incidentally, someone like you assisting her does not help her case."

The man had more guts against her than some others had. Sybil found herself oddly admiring it. "Whether she is what you say doesn't matter at the moment. All you need to worry about is that we want her, and we get what we want. I imagine you've heard of the troubles going on in the country next door you've been subjugating?"

A vague look of worry began to enter Vyner's eyes. "You mean Queen Mab. I never cared for the name, it strikes me as far too pretentious."

Sybil had dealt with this attitude a bit in the early days, but the English living in Ireland quickly grew to genuinely fear her. Seeing it again was a bit of a shock, but she refused to let it throw her off her game. "But you can't argue with results. You know what I'm willing to do."

Vyner shrugged. "Oh yes, I know. And I'll hand the lady over, don't worry, but you should realize you're on our land now, and this isn't going to end here. There are far more people here willing to help me track you down than in your home, and I refuse to shirk my duties. So you'd better just kill me right now if you're not prepared for that."

Sybil nodded. "Whether you believe it or not, I do have respect for your position. So if you'll just give us what we want, we can all go on our way, and I look forward to seeing you again."

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It was shortly after Sybil and Branson left that all eyes turned to Thomas. "So, what exactly is this plan you had?" said Mary. "Because I'd say whatever ends up happening now, we're going to need it."

Thomas got a look of trepidation. "Yes, I suppose we will." And then Mary was confused to see him walk over to the wall, raise his hand…and then lower it again. He then took a couple deep breaths, only to repeat the motion. Finally he shouted "Oh for god's sake!" and Mary was shocked to see him quickly scratch his finger down the wall, the hard surface causing a good deal of his fingernail to rip away.

The man gave a horrible scream, and collapsed to the floor. As Matthew and Bates ran to him, Mary headed to get ice and a towel. Upon getting back, she set to work doing what little she could, and said, "What on earth is this?"

Thomas' face was pale, and his first few attempts to speak were subsumed by further moans of pain. But at last he was able to get back some form of coherence. "The only thing I've been able to think of. Give the police someone else to pin the crime on. After a while it'll be harder to tell just how old the wound is, so it could well have been me."

Matthew said, "But how is this any better? Someone's still going to prison either way."

Thomas chuckled grimly. "But what is lost? None of you can know what it's like to love only your own sex. Being terrified day in and day out that the wrong person will find out, and not being able to approach anyone because you don't know if they're the same way. And on top of that, my career is going nowhere. Now Anna, she has a chance that I don't. She has friends, and she has love. And I won't let her spend another day behind bars if there's anything I can do to prevent it."

Mary replied, "If you weren't already in enough pain, I'd slap you. You think you don't have friends? Everyone in this room is your friend, and we'll help you if you let us. And I think you knew that, or else you would have told us about this fool idea before you did something you can't take back."

Thomas looked down. "I suppose you're right. But it doesn't change anything. Anna is still in danger, and I don't see any other way to help."

Mary sighed. "All right. But we're not letting you go, either. If it does end up happening this way, we'll do our best to get you out too."

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Patrick's mood had shifted all day as he went through one half-baked idea to the next of how to get their money back. Edith was seriously worried that he was losing his mind. Finally he had just gone racing out of the house, giving no explanation to her. It was now starting to get dark, and she was worried he might be dead in a ditch somewhere.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Thomas, who entered the room followed by none other than the Countess Aine. Edith frowned at the breach of protocol, but she supposed the American was still having a hard time getting her head around all those rules.

Except when the Countess spoke, it was in a flawless upper-class English accent. "I imagine you've had quite a day." Just as Edith was starting to wonder where she knew the voice from, the woman lifted her mask, revealing a face she'd never expected to see again. "It's time we hashed things out once and for all."


	14. Chapter 14

Edith abruptly stood up, then seemed unsure which way to move. She settled on simply gripping the chair, and mumbled, "Mary, Mary…"

Her sister grinned, unable to resist the setup. "Quite contrary, yes. I could go into the whole story, the time I spent on the street trying not to starve, the years putting this whole plan together. I even managed to find my own love. But none of that really matters right now, does it?"

Edith took an unsteady step forward. "So this whole time it's been you, looking at us from behind that mask, plotting against us? And who is that fellow you roped into helping you with this?"

Mary gave a sharp laugh. "He's actually our cousin. And the whole thing was really his idea. He's got some interesting taste in literature, you'd probably have liked him. Shame you made that impossible the day you betrayed me."

Edith took another step forward. "Do you have any idea what it was like to be your sister? Soaking up all the attention, while I was left with nothing? So when I was given a chance to change that, yes, I took it. And if you're capable of something as cruel as this, can you tell me I made the wrong choice? What have you been doing, anyway?"

Mary glanced down for a second before she could reply. "That's why I'm revealing myself to you now. Matthew and I had a whole plan to deal with you, but it's taken a turn we never wanted. And I can't live with what I've become anymore. He doesn't know I'm here."

A more curious look stole over Edith. "What do you mean, a turn? What have you been doing?"

Mary couldn't help smiling a bit despite everything. "We were the ones who told you to get your money out of the bank, remember? I'm sure you can work the rest out from there."

A flurry of expressions crossed Edith's face as one piece after another fell into place. Finally Mary knew she'd reached the terrible final conclusion when they were all replaced by pure anger. "Rose. You killed her!"

Mary barely managed to still look her sister in the eye. "We had no idea she'd be there. But that doesn't change that she died because of us, and this whole plan I was so proud of until today. Mama and Papa were involved, too. So you see, none of our hands are clean anymore." She elected to keep Sybil's involvement a secret for now, in case just one of them had a chance to emerge from these ashes.

This got Edith back in the chair, which she just barely managed before she would have fainted. "You hate me that much, that you'd go through all this? Well, what makes you any better?"

Mary's look turned sardonic. "I've asked myself that question so many times over the years, and especially today. And that's why I wanted to show myself. If there was ever a chance to end this whole thing as well as it could be, it's now. We had a sisterly bond once, and with neither of us any better or worse than the other, surely we can come to some kind of forgiveness?"

Edith burst out laughing. "You really expect me to believe that? I did grieve for what happened, Mary. For years I agonized over what I'd done, and I still haven't forgiven myself. So how are you supposed to do it?"

"Sybil is here too." That certainly got her attention. "She was the one who got the explosives. And as angry as Mama and Papa are with me, I can't imagine she'll be able to be anywhere near them ever again. So it's going to just be the two of us, and if we can't reconcile I don't know what life will hold for me after all this is finished. And besides," her tone darkened considerably, "if you don't agree, the rest of the plan is still poised to go ahead, and believe me, you won't be able to stop it. This is the only way you'll have any kind of future, so you should agree for that reason if nothing else."

Edith gazed steadily at her sister. "I look at you, and I try to see my sister. Maybe with enough time, I'll succeed. All right, what do I have to do?"

Mary tried to hide her tremendous inward sigh; the hard part was over. "Any amnesty extended to you does not apply to Patrick; I hope you can understand that."

Edith nodded. "He'd never accept it anyway. He's been near madness all day."

"Then we need to put an end to all this, here and now. You'll write a confession in your own hand, saying he coerced you into everything, threatened violence, anything you think will be convincing. And he's been holding you prisoner all these years. After I look it over to make sure it's sufficient, we'll deliver it to the police together."

Edith blinked a few times before responding. "I'll need some time to compose it, of course."

Mary smiled, allowing just a bit of her joy at vindication through. "Bring it tomorrow night. I'm sure you know where to find us."

With that, she turned and left the room. For quite some time after, Edith was left standing in the middle of the room, stock still, struggling to process everything that had just happened.

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Patrick had not come back until late that night, and brusquely waved off all of Edith's questions about where he'd been, refusing to explain any further than "Thinking." They went to bed together as usual, but there was a coldness between them on a level she hadn't felt since those early days of their marriage, when she'd still been dealing with the guilt of what she'd done to Mary, which of course had now all been unearthed again.

The old wounds had scabbed over to such an extent that not even discovering her sister had been alive could fully tear it open, and learning about her own misdeeds in the course of her revenge did nothing to help rebuild the family love between them. But at the same time, she knew almost immediately that she would do as Mary asked. She had loved Patrick at first, but that had quickly given way to a lukewarm tolerance for the sake of the comfort he provided. And if this was the only way out of her current situation, she'd gladly throw him to the wolves.

She had of course agonized over just how her account to go, and had thrown out several nearly filled pages in frustration. But finally, she believed she had achieved a balance of how things could have gone which fit all the evidence, along with a contrite enough tone despite her claim to have been an unwilling participant all along. She picked up the sheets, and prepared to take them over for Mary's approval.

Patrick stood in the doorway.

"And what exactly do you have there?" he said, fumes of alcohol escaping between his slurred words. She shouldn't have been surprised; this certainly seemed like the natural next step in the breakdown he'd been having. But why did this have to be happening now?

"I won't talk to you in this condition. I can explain tomorrow." At least she hoped to be done with this by then, with Patrick safely the police's problem. She tried to move past him, but he roughly grabbed her arm. Now this was a true shock; as unhappy as their marriage had been at times, he had never manhandled her like this before.

"Give it to me!" He pawed at the papers, and Edith tried her best to keep the away, but that iron grip never wavered and she eventually stumbled and fell to the floor, dropping them. Patrick quickly scooped a few up and she was dismayed that even in his inebriation, his eyes showed that he understood what he was reading.

After a few lines, he looked up at her as she stood up again, the surprise seeming to have banished the alcohol's effects. "What were you going to do with this?" he asked. There surprisingly didn't seem to be any anger in his voice, just pure confusion.

A thousand half-formed ideas flicked through Edith's head about how she could reply, each dismissed almost as soon as it was formed, until she was left with the truth. "Mary is alive. She's that countess with the veil. And now she's making me do this."

Patrick actually staggered back a step as if the words were a physical blow. "Say that again?"

She sighed. "It won't be any easier to believe the more times I say it, but it's true. Now give that back!"

He snatched the papers out of her reach again. "You really were going to do it, weren't you? Pin the whole thing on me when we both know you'd always wanted to do it. You probably would have gotten there yourself eventually if I hadn't given you the chance!"

Now Edith's own anger was overturning her fear. "Plenty of sisters don't get along without doing what we did! You turned me into this, and now you're going to pay for it!"

It was impossible to say who made the first move, but soon it didn't matter as they were both attacking with every trick they could get. Scratching, gouging, biting, kicking, it was all a blur as they thrashed their way across the whole library, knocking several items off the tables that yesterday they would have cringed to lose. There was no conscious thought in Edith's mind, just a desperation to stay alive just a second longer, and giving back as good as she got.

At last, it was Patrick's drunken state that did him in. It made him less vulnerable to pain, but also severely affected his balance, so eventually Edith was able to get enough distance between them that he began to topple over as he lurched toward her. As the panic entered his eyes, she rushed up to him, grabbed his head, and still without any real thought to what she was doing, slammed the side of it into a corner of the bookcase.

The man went limp at the first blow, but Edith was in no condition to notice, and did it again before she let him drop. There was a sickening depression in his skull, made worse by how he continued to pathetically writhe on the floor, eyes bulging as his hands reached out and repeatedly clasped around thin air.

Edith's attention was pulled from the horrific sight by the sound of a cough from the doorway. Impossible as it seemed, Mary was standing there. And as she walked into the room, behind her followed the Count, or whoever he really was, her mother and father, Sybil, and even Thomas.

Mary stepped forward, a victorious grin on her face. "My my, Edith. What have you done?"


End file.
